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^, KOMANCE AND REALISM OF 
ITHE SOUTHERN GULF COAST 



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BY 



MINNIEWALTERMYERS. 





LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

ChapL2_lb Copyright M._ 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 










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ROMANCE AND REALISM OF 
THE SOUTHERN GULF COAST 



BY 

MINNIE WALTER MYERS 



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cincinnati , 
The Robert Clarke Company 

1898 ■ ,,MC-to7 

^"""is^J!^' ^^P 181898^ 

^'fer of Covf!5. ' 

TWO COPIED HtGtlVED. 



B176 



Copyright, 1S9S, 
By Minxih: Waltkr Mykks. 



To My Father, 
HARVEY W. WALTER, 

AND MY BROTHERS, 

P^RANK, AVENT, AND JAMES WALTER. 

With an exalted heroism that 
forgot all consideration of self, 
they faced the terrors of an 
epidemic, and sacrificed them- 
selves that others might live. 



^''Greater love hath fio man thati this, that a man 
lay do'vn his life for his friejidsT 



PREFACE. 

Acknowledgments are due for assistance re- 
ceived from Claiborne's '' History of Missis- 
sippi ; " Gayarre's "Romances of Louisi- 
ana History;" Alcee Fortier's ''Louisiana 
Studies ; " '' The Sketch-book of New Or- 
leans ; " ''In Acadia," by Margaret Avery 
Johnston ; " Letters on the Gulf Coast," by R. 
A. Wilkinson ; " New Orleans, the Place and 
the People," by Grace King; "Legends and 
Lyrics of the Gulf Coast," by Laura F. Hins- 
dale, and " Ethnological Reports." 

The history of a country is incomplete with- 
out the preservation of its romances. Col- 
lecting, condensing and arranging the material 
for this little volume has been tedious but 
fascinating work. The author has endeavored 
to make each scene characteristic and pro- 
gressive from the founding of Louisiana to the 
present time. The Author. 

Memphis, April, 1898. 



Vll 



CONTENTS. 



Chapter I. Indians of the Sea Coast, . . 7 
II. Early Romance History, . . 17 

III. Creoles, Acadians and Plantation 

Scenes, ...... 37 

IV. New Orleans, its Romances and 

Picturesque Charms, . . 64 

V. Beauvoir and the Mysterious Music 

OF the Sea, . . . . -95 
VI. Past and Present, . . . 117 

ix 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



View from Mexican Gulf Hotel, Pass Chris- 
tian, ...... Frontispiece 



PAGE 



Martha Washington Oak, ..... 5 

Squaw and Papoose, . . . . . 19 

Old French Quarter, ...... 34 

Avenue of Oaks, ...... 54 

Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral, . . 73 
Drive on the Beach, ..... 91 

Beauvoir, ........ 96 

Church of the Redeemer, . . . .114 

The Ring in the Oak, . . . . . 127 

xi 



ROMANCE AND REALISM OF THE 
SOUTHERN GULF COAST. 



CHAPTER L 



The great Sun Chiefs of the Natchez tribe 
greeted the first morning beams of their celes- 
tial brother with a prolonged howl, then wav- 
ing their hands from east to west, they showed 
him his daily path. 

They did not know, however, nor could 
their great medicine men foretell them, that the 
sun of Indian happiness and prosperity would 
also cross the great Father of Waters, and 
would set in western darkness never to rise 
again. 

The Choctaw Indian, the stoic of the woods, 
boasted in the face of Tecumseh's embittered 
eloquence in i8ti, that Choctaw hands had 
never been stained in the blood of the white 
man. To him they had thrown open their 
wigwams, and offered, with proverbial Indian 
hospitality, to divide their maize. The pale- 
face accepted the half, and then seized the 
fields upon which it grew. In the beginning, 



Romance and Realism 

such was the European gentleman and the un- 
tutored savage. 

Even as Romulus and Remus were nurtured 
by a wolf, so were the infant ancestors of the 
Choctaws nurtured by a panther. When they 
were large enough to go into the woods the 
great book-maker gave them their bows and 
arrows and an earthen pot, and said to them, 
*' I give you these hunting grounds for your 
homes. When you leave them you die." 

He then disappeared in the woods. But 
now, where are they? The answer comes back 
to us in the lament of the Choctaw chief ; its 
beauty can never be marred, though it has been 
so often repeated. 

'' Brother, when you were young we were 
strong. We fought by your side, but our arms 
are now broken. You have grown large ; my 
people have become small. My voice is weak. 
It is not the voice of a warrior, but the wail of 
an infant ; I have lost it in mourning over the 
misfortunes of my people. These are their 
graves, and in these aged pines you hear the 
ghosts of the departed. Twelve winters ago 
our chief sold our country. If the dead had 
been counted it would never have been made ; 
but, alas ! though they stood around they could 
not be seen and heard. Their tears come in 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

the rain-drops, and their voice in the wailing- 
wind. When you took our country you prom- 
ised us land. Twelve times have the trees 
dropped their leaves, and yet we have received 
no land. Is this truth? Grief has made chil- 
dren of us ; my people are small ; their shadow 
scarcely reaches to your knee ; they are scat- 
tered and gone." 

No scholarly address could have furnished 
more profound eloquence. No rules of rhetoric 
were needed to improve the imagery of the red 
man. As the child of nature he drew his pict- 
ures directly from her heart. 

The white man talks learnedly of an eclipse 
of the sun. and explains the scientific reasons 
for it. The Indians knew, however, that these 
dark disks upon its surface meant that black 
squirrels were attacking it to devour it. With 
wild alarm the whole tribe beat their drums 
and kettles, screamed, shot their arrows at 
the sun, and made every possible noise to 
frighten the squirrels. Surely they must 
have been squirrels, for after a short or 
prolonged warfare they disappeared, and the 
sun shone again with all his brilliance. These 
same noises frightened away the evil spirits of 
the dead. 

The tallest tree fell beneath the touch of the 



Romance and Realism 

white man, but the Indian could tell of his an- 
cient mammoth kindred, who devoured every 
thing, and, breaking down the forests, made the 
Mississippi prairies. A terrible earthquake had 
killed all but one. Affrighted, he had fled at 
one mighty leap across the Mississippi at 
Memphis and sought refuge in the Rocky 
Mountains. 

At a time of great drought the elk and buf- 
falo also fled across the Mississippi river, but 
the Biloxi Indian could tell you that the buf- 
falo would forever carry with him the evidence 
of his defeat by their great Ancient of Frogs. 
This Ancient of Frogs was endowed by his 
grandmother with wonderful strength. The 
first antagonist he met was a panther, but the 
frog threw him against a tree and broke his jaw ; 
then he encountered a bear, but throwing him 
against a tree he broke off his tail, which has ac- 
counted ever since for the short tail of the bear 
on the southern shore. When he met the buf- 
falo he threw him against a tree and broke the 
bufl^alo's back, and to this day the latter bears 
a hump in evidence of his defeat. The last 
conflict was with a deer, whose leg was broken, 
but the Ancient of Frogs formed a great friend- 
ship for the deer. Now when we hear the shrill 
*'pes! pes!" of the frogs, mingled with the 

4 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 



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Cfc, 




J 


%5 


r 





Romance and Realism 

sounds of the splashing waves and sighing 
pines, we know that he is giving warning of 
danger to the deer and telling him that the 
hunters are near. 

The Biloxi Indians never allowed a child to 
step over a grindstone, knowing that it would 
stop his growth. How clearly interwoven are 
the superstitions of different nations ! The 
writer well remembers as a child that her dear 
old black mammy would say to her : 

" Chile, don' yer neber lay down on de flo, an 
let nobody step ober yer, kase ef yer do yer 
won't neber gro' no mo." 

The history of Natchez and Biloxi is so 
^ closely connected that it is almost a link with- 
in a link. The Natchez tribe did not dwell so 
directly upon the coast as the Biloxis, Pasca- 
goulas, Choctaws and others, but they felt 
that it belonged equally to them. It was their 
frequent camping ground. There grew the 
giant oaks a thousand years old, whose roots 
striking deep into the earth found what Ponce 
de Leon sought in vain — the fountain of youth. 
Each spring they budded forth in their vernal 
freshness of beauty ; the southern nightingale, 
the mocking bird, sang amongst their branches, 
and the long gray moss hung from each limb 
and stirred gently with every breeze. The 

6 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

Indian loved the fragrant orange and magnolia 
trees, the soft balmy air, the palmettos uplift- 
ing their dagger-shaped leaves, the tall tremb- 
ing reeds, the soft murmur of the pines, the 
stately cypress, and the ever-restless but musi- 
cal sounds of the sea. 

Some writers describe the Natchez as equal- 
ing the Montezumas in splendor ; but their 
wigwams were rude and rough, and even their 
temple of the sun was only an oven-baked 
structure. It had simply a rough altar, and 
shelves around the wall with baskets contain- 
ing the bones of the Great Suns ; on lower 
shelves there were baskets containing the 
bones of favorite attendants, who had been 
killed to attend them to the Happy Hunting 
Grounds. Outside there was a fence of sharp 
pickets, and upon the point of each was the 
skull of an enemy. 

When a warrior entered the hut of the Great 
Sun, the latter would be seated upon his bed 
of rude mats, and there was a stone in the 
middle of the room. The warrior howled when 
he entered, and before saluting the Great Sun 
he would run around the stone in the middle of 
the room three times, howling each time ; the 
more he howled the greater the favor that 
would be extended to him. If he were of 



Romance and Realism 

small importance the Great Sun noticed him 
only with a slight grunt; if more in favor the 
grunt would be more pronounced, but the war- 
rior could never answer him without first 
homing. 

^.J^^When we study the customs and traditions 
of other people we are apt to receive many of 
them with a quiet smile of ridicule ; but we 
should pause when we consider some of our 
own beliefs and matters of etiquette. The im- 
pression that we receive of a picture depends 
greatly upon the light in which it is viewed. 

^^;;;?=^ississippi was the first state in the Union 
to enact a law giving to woman the control of 
her own property ; now it has emancipated her 
from all disabilities of coverture ; but few per- 
sons know that the original statute was sug- 
gested by the tribal customs of the Chickasaw 
Indians in the northern part of the state. The 
despised squaw, who bore the heat and burden 
of the day, reached forth her small brown hands 
and struck off the shackles that bound her 
more civilized sister. Under the Chickasaw 
law the husband acquired no right to the prop- 
erty of the wife which she owned at the time 
of her marriage, or to the subsequent ac- 
quests, and no part was subject to the debts of 
her husband. The marriage ties were often 

8 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

Hghtly made and hghtly broken ; there were no 
divorce suits ; but when husband and wife 
agreed to separate, the children belonged to 
the mother. Her rights were acknowledged 
supreme. 

Many of the Indian laws were very just. 
When the husband and wife died leaving no 
children, the wife's relative^ generally took 
the property, unless the husband had built 
the house entirely, when his relatives inher- 
ited it. Nothing could be fairer, for the In- 
dian w^oman generally did all the work and 
built the home. Her life was one of absolute 
drudgery; but her burdens were laid upon a 
perfectly healthy body, one of God's greatest 
blessings, that does not generally come through 
doors closed to the fresh air of heaven and to 
bodies enervated by luxury. In those days 
there were in the forest no sanitariums filled 
with delicate women. The realistic thought 
will obtrude itself, that, if the white man has 
taken the burdens from the back of woman, he 
has sometimes, with refined cruelty, inflicted 
burdens upon her aching heart that are too 
heavy for her endurance. 

Without any woman's suffrage movement, 
but in the quietest way, the Choctaw girl pos- 
sessed in matters of courtship rights that are 
not granted to the Nineteenth Century girl. 

9 



Romance and Realism 

The latter must wait in modest silence until she 
is wooed and won, though her heart should 
flutter like a bird and her cheeks crimson 
when she hears the footstep of her beloved. 
To the Indian girl belonged the privilege of 
giving the *' first banter." This was done gen- 
erally by squeezing the hand of her brave or by 
stepping upon his foot. Should he presume to 
give the first banter, she and all the squaws 
could fall upon him and beat him most unmer- 
cifully. In the majority of tribes the Indian 
could marry the sister of his dead wife. The 
peace of the tribe was not annually disturbed 
by the ghost of a deceased-wife's-sister bill. 

The students of Yale and Harvard find no 
greater pleasure in the game of football than 
the red men of the southern shore. Par- 
ticularly did they delight in the intricate 
game of ball played with a crooked stick, 
and they were fully equal to the present pro- 
gressive age in the excitement and extent 
of their betting. An Indian runner could travel 
fifty miles a day, and when he brought war 
news he entered the village with a war-whoop. 
This was taken up by every one he met until 
he reached the town-house, in front of the pub- 
lic square. In health and symmetry of body 
the American Indian almost equaled the classic 

lO 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

Greek. Disease and deformity were compara- 
tively unknown among them. Their system 
of massage was as efficient as our own or that 
of the Romans. 

Around their blazing fires in the evening, or 
in the soft summer moonlight, tradition told 
them of their history, philosophy, religion and 
customs. To them the white man's "speaking 
bark " was unknown; tradition and sign lan- 
guage constituted their encyclopaedia. There 
were so many tribes and dialects that in sign 
language they were most proficient. 

"Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant 
More learned than their ears." 

Their green corn dance was their annual 
jubilee, when all wrongs except murder were 
forgiven. This was the season when fresh 
fires were built, and the year started with new 
happiness. Nor shall we believe that their 
dancing was irregular and unpracticed. Their 
intricate and regular steps equaled the drills of 
our modern gymnasium, and with the dance was 
mingled the sound of their joyous laughter and 
rude but rhythmic music. Nature smiled upon 
her happy -hearted children. The immense 
live oaks, clad in their drapery of moss, lifted 
their umbrageous arms above, shielding them 



1 1 



Romance and Realism 

from sun and storm ; and the sea, catching the 
sounds of their revelry, held them in its depths, 
and gives them to us now in strange, mysteri- 
ous music. 

Nor did the heart of the Indian throb only 
with physical and material being. To him 
were given some of the fine instincts of right 
and wrong that would have done honor to the 
Virginia Cavalier or the New England Puritan. 
When they borrowed an article, they returned 
it promptly at the promised time. When con- 
demned to death for murder, the Indian was 
free to go where he would until the day of ex- 
ecution, when he presented himself, made a 
mark around his heart for a target, and calmly 
met his doom. For him no officers of the law 
were needed. 

They were keenly sensitive to ridicule and 
disgrace, and suicides among them for these 
causes were not unfrequent. Although they 
never mentioned their dead after burial, who 
knows what real bitter tears may have been 
mingled with their weird cry over the cold 
bodies, or what weight of bereavement and 
loss may have lingered in their hearts un- 
der a stolid exterior ? Nor do we know what 
vague thoughts they may have had of the 
Great Spirit — the Giver of Breath. The 
yearning to know the truth is universal. 

12 



of the Southern Gulf Coast 

The Natchez idea of heaven was a perpetual 
feast of green corn, venison and melons, and 
hades was to eat spoiled fish and alligators. 

Even as the Sons and Daughters of the 
Revolution and all other patriots love their 
country, so did the Indian love his — before it 
was taken from him. The proudest boast of a 
Choctaw was, '' I am a Choctaw." They loved 
not only their country, but also their homes 
and children ; and they loved their wives, how- 
ever much they may have abused them — a 
characteristic sometimes observed in civilized 
as well as savage life. It is said the Pasca- 
goula Indians, who dwelt in Southern Missis- 
sippi on the banks of the Escatawpa, loved its 
shores so dearly that nowhere else would they 
consent to be buried. When called away, 
either in the chase or upon the war-path, they 
first stooped and drank of the flowing Esca- 
tawpa, for there was some charm in its waters 
that always brought back the wanderer. Even 
now it is said : 

" He who drinks of Escatawpa's tide 
His bones must rest on Escatawpa's side." 

Time was marked by bundles of sticks, one 
stick being withdrawn for each day. In this 
connection is told one of the sweetest stories 

13 



Romance and Realism 

of Fort Rosalie, now Natchez. The Natchez 
and Chickasaws had agreed to attack and sur- 
prise the fort at a certain time ; but Stellona, a 
princess of the royal blood, precipitated the 
attack of the Natchez before the Chickasaws 
came by extracting two arrows from the bun- 
dle. This she did to save the life of her 
French lover. Lieutenant De Mace. 

/ There is scarcely a place in this charmed re- 
gion of the South which does not have its ro- 
mance. Even now, when the halcyon birds are 
flying in Indian summer, a soft gray haze is seen 
on the coast. This is said to be the smoke 
from the mysterious furnaces of the God of 
Pottery, who taught the Indians their knowl- 

• edge of it, and who lingers here reluctant to 
leave these shores. 

One of the most charming characteristics 
of nearly all Indian tribes was their hospitality. 
They regarded it more of a duty than a virtue. 
They considered that the Great Spirit gave 
the land equally to all, and that it was their duty 
to entertain the stranger and the needy — the 
first because he was away from home, and the 
latter because the land belonged equally to 
him. In the majority of Indian tribes, there 
were no stated hours for meals, but the pot 
was always kept boiling for the benefit of any 

14 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

who might come hungry. Even the most 
worthless of the tribe was never denied food ; 
but a lazy man who begged was so covered 
with ridicule that an Indian tramp was rarely 
seen. In this respect the American tramp is 
far ahead of the Indian. Buckets of ridicule 
may be poured over him without injury to his 
feelings, if the ridicule is only intermixed with 
a few cold biscuits and cups of coffee. 

A number of Indian families generally lived 
together, sharing things in common. At pres- 
ent the communistic feeling is growing in the 
United States. Carried to an extreme, and in 
the hands of ignorant and lawless classes, this 
may lead us to grave evils, but it lends an in- 
terest to this Indian custom. Ethnologists call 
our attention to the custom as tending to the 
final equalization of subsistence. They assert 
that hunger and destitution could not prevail 
in one end of a village while plenty prevailed 
in the other end of it. 

In this chapter the habits of the Choctaw 
Indians have especially been considered be- 
cause they were the friends of the early colo- 
nists. The writer is indebted to Claiborne's 
History of Mississippi lor much interesting in- 
formation. 

Chactas and Chicks-a, two brothers, came 

15 



Romance and Realism 

from the west led by a pole held by invisible 
hands. The pole stopped when it crossed the 
river and reached Mississippi soil. Chicks-a 
went to the northern part of Mississippi, and 
his tribe of Chickasaws became followers of 
the Red Cross of St. George ; while Chactas 
founded the Choctaw tribe in Southern Mis- 
sissippi and Alabama, and they followed the 
Lily of France. Thus the foreigners brought 
with them to this country their seeds of envy 
and discord, and planted them in the hearts of 
the red men. 

Perhaps it may be claimed that these pages 
have idealized the character of the Indian, 
and the character of the pale face has been 
depreciated. The terrible war-whoop, and 
the glittering tomahawk are shudderingly re- 
membered ; but, turning the light of truth upon 
civilized history, we read of the Salem witch- 
craft, with its horrors, the Spanish Inquisition, 
the persecution of the Christian and the Jew, 
and the tyranny of unbounded power in every 
age. Realizing all this, and realizing that we 
have taken from the Indian his home and 
nearly exterminated his people, we should at 
least bury him with a requiem of justice. 

i6 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 



CHAPTER II. 

The humming bird foretold to the Biloxi In- 
dians the arrival of strangers ; it was also to 
them the bird of truth. 

What myriads of them must have fluttered 
their brilliant wings in the sunlight on that 
fateful morning, in 1699, when the Indian dis- 
covered the great black birds with white wings, 
skimming slowly and gracefully the blue waters 
of their bay. Silently and swiftly the little 
birds of truth flew above them, trying in 
vain to tell the red men how freiorhted 
with change this scene was to them. Try- 
ing in vain to tell them that these strange creat- 
ures came from the old to the new world to 
change its customs, its people, and the very 
aspect of nature. 

How strange it was to them when the royal 
looking Iberville and his younger, but not less 
noble-looking brother, Bienville, stepped upon 
the shore in their gorgeous dress, and with their 
retinue knelt beneath the golden cross, and 
took possession of the country in the name of 
their God and their king. More startling still 

17 



Romance and Realism 

was the cannon's voice from its cloud of smoke 
as it went thundering over the waters. 

To the Biloxians their Thunder Being was 
so strange and mysterious that his name was 
never mentioned in cloudy weather. Fearful 
were they that he would hear them, and in his 
wrath frown down upon them in clouds of rain 
and storm. It was only when he was far away 
and the sun was shining, that they told, in awe- 
struck tones, the stories of his power. Yet 
these strange pale faces brought their thunder 
with them, and, though the sun was shining, it 
spoke or remained silent at their command. 

These were not, however, the first white 
men to step upon Mississippi soil. With his 
brilliant but ill-fated cortege, with his Anda- 
lusian steeds, his high hopes and bitter dis- 
appointments, Hernando de Soto had swept 
from Florida to the banks of the Father of 
Waters, which he first discovered just below 
the site of the present city of Memphis in 
May, 1 54 1. He did not realize that this 
mighty river, which was to be the source of 
wealth and prosperity to so many others, 
would be to him the sepulcher of his hopes, 
his ambitions, and his body. 

About one hundred and thirty years after- 
ward, in 1673, Father Marquette and Joliet 

18 



of the Southern GuU Coast. 




A squaw and papoose. 



Romance and Realism 

came down from Quebec and sailed down its 
waters as far as Arkansas. Being convinced 
that it emptied into the gulf, they returned to 
Quebec and reported their discovery amidst 
the wildest rejoicings. In 1682, Cavelier de 
la Salle was at the mouth of the Mississippi, 
and took possession of it in the name of 
France. When Iberville and Bienville landed 
on the southern coast, the pulse of the country 
from north to south was beginning to throb 
with new and certain life ; but while La Salle 
had planned a French colony in the South, 
Iberville and Bienville founded at Biloxi, in 
1699, the first settlement of the great State of 
Louisiana. 

The sound is divided from the Gulf of 
Mexico by a number of islands lying at vary- 
ing distances from the shore. Between them 
are channels and passes leading into the gulf. 
Nearly all of these islands are low, sandy, and 
unprepossessing, but there is not one that has 
not its strange legends, and that has not been 
connected with the history of the sea-coast. 

Ship Island, the largest and most important, 
was so named by the French because it was 
the best roadstead for vessels. Its harbor has 
always been remarkably safe against storms. 
It has not only been a refuge for ships in time 



20 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

of peace, but it has also been of greatest im- 
portance in time of war. During the war of 
1812, Packenham's fleet was anchored in it; 
and during our late civil war, one of the first 
movements of the federal troops was the cap- 
ture of Biloxi and Ship Island. During his 
reign in New Orleans, General Butler named 
the fort at Ship Island *'Fort Massachusetts" 
in honor of his native state. In this fort he 
confined persons whom he desired to punish. 

Cat Island was so named because when the 
French reached it, they found upon it a small 
animal, somewhat resembling both a fox and a 
cat. One of Iberville's men exclaimed, '' This 
is the land of cats." This cat, however, was 
the American raccoon, which has since become 
so dear to the American darkies' heart and 
appetite that from it he has derived his 
sobriquet of " coons." 

The American coon has borne his part in the 
history of the country, and is not to be ignored. 
In the memorable campaign of 1840, many 
wildly cheering processions of Whigs were 
headed by miniature log cabins with coons 
perched above them — the campaign of log 
cabins, coons, and hard cider. Who does 
not remember also the coonskin brigade of 

21 



Romance and Realism 

Georgia, the coonskin caps, the rolHcking 
coon and '' 'possum " hunts of the South? 

One of the most terrible incidents in the 
early history of the colony happened at Cat 
Island. Duroux, the governor, an exacting 
tyrant, frequently stripped his men naked 
when they displeased him, and left them all 
night on Cat Island exposed to the mosquitoes 
and sand-flies. His men mutinied and killed 
him, but they were captured ; one of them 
was broken on a wheel, and one placed alive 
in his coffin and his body sawed in two. 

It is said that a pirate's ship was wrecked 
on Cat Island, and that it now lies in the 
sand deeply buried. Sand storms have blown 
over and covered it, but sailors affirm that 
now when a storm rages, the lost souls of the 
pirates are heard wailing through the wind. 

An amusing incident is told as to the man- 
ner in which the Isle au Pois derived its name. 
When the French were encamped there, they 
were attacked by *' small flies or cousins" 
(mosquitoes), and they fled in such panic that 
they forgot and left their bag of peas on the 
island. They could successfully compete with 
other nations on land and sea, but the mos- 
quito was too much for them. 

The history of Dauphine Island is as closely 

22 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

interwoven with the early settlement of Louis- 
iana as that of Ship Island. In 1701, Bienville 
received instructions to transfer the seat of 
government from Fort Maurepas, at Biloxi, to 
Mobile, and Dauphine Island became to Mobile 
what Ship Island had been to Biloxi — its place 
of anchorage and supply station. Gayarre 
tells us that when the French reached the isl- 
and they found it covered with bones, and re- 
alized that some awful tragedy had been en- 
acted there, "but tradition, when questioned, 
lays her choppy finger upon her skinny lips, 
and answers not." From finding these skele- 
tons the island was first called Massacre Island, 
but it was afterward changed to Dauphine, in 
honor of the Count of Dauphine, who ceded 
his province to the French monarch. In com- 
pliment to him, the wife of the eldest born son 
of the King of France was called Dauphine, 
and her husband the Dauphin. 

During the first thirteen years of its strug- 
gling existence, the little colony was often 
pinched by want and absolute famine. Some- 
times they were reduced to the necessity of 
eating acorns, and several times Bienville scat- 
tered them among the Indians to prevent 
actual starvation. 

Bienville was the second governor, Sauvolle 

23 



Romance and Realism 

having been the first. Chivalric, brave, 
wealthy, and talented, Sauvolle had loved and 
been loved by one of the noblest women of the 
court of Louis the Fourteenth, but suddenly 
there came to him the terrible realization of a 
great physical trouble. Grief-stricken, he gave 
up his love, the brilliant court, and all that was 
dear to him, to face the dangers of the new 
country and calmly wait the end that heart 
trouble was likely at any time to bring to him. 
He died in Biloxi and was buried there. 

Dazzled by a knowledge of the treasures 
of gold and silver found by Pizarro in Peru 
and Cortez in Mexico, the French sought 
vainly for mines only. They remained de- 
pendent on the mother country, and were blind 
to the riches of earth and air around them. 

While our ancestors were starving in their 
search for gold, the Indians were enjoying the 
following appetizing cuisine, as described by 
Claiborne : Tom-ful-la was their favorite and 
standing dish. It consisted of corn soaked in lye 
to take off the husks, then thoroughly boiled 
with bear's oil, and sometimes the kernels of 
walnuts and hickory nuts. They barbecued a 
slice of turkey breast, venison, and bear meat 
together. They likewise pounded walnuts and 
hickory nuts, passed them through boiling wa- 

24 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

ter, and then through strainers of fine basket 
work, and this produced a Hquor the color and 
consistency of cream, and of rich and fine flavor. 

In 1708, after nine years existence, there 
were only about three hundred people in the 
colony, and they had the most meager posses- 
sions. In his charming book, the Romances 
of Louisiana History, Gayarre has not only 
given us history, but he has touched those 
rugged times with poetry, and written of them 
with " a quill dropped from cupid's wing." In 
this chapter are given glimpses of his pathetic 
romances of Sauvolle and Crozat ; also, the 
attractive romances of Bienville, Boisbriant. 
and the Petticoat Insurrection, with their quaint 
phases and humor. 

In 1705, in a ship sent by Louis XIV, were 
twenty girls who had been carefully selected 
by the Bishop of Quebec from irreproachable 
families in Paris. While he had not intention- 
ally deceived them, they came impressed with 
expectations of a rich and splendid country, 
but they found immediately the hardships and 
dangers of pioneer life. In a few months, 
when the provisions brought by the ship were 
exhausted, they were reduced to a sole diet of 
corn. Even in those early days, Paris led in 
artistic fashions and tastes, and the Parisian 



Romance and Realism 

girl longed for her dainty surroundings and 
even a few bon-bons. The Petticoat Insur- 
rection began against the corn diet. They de- 
clared that the Bishop of Quebec had deceived 
them, and that they would leave at the first 
opportunity. Like sensible, true women, how- 
ever, they reconciled themselves to the situa- 
tion, and bravely endured their part of the 
hardships. 

The number of these girls was wholly in- 
adequate to supply the demand. They were 
lodged in a house to themselves, and 
during the day they were selected by the 
French bachelors, but at night a sentinel was 
placed at the door. Dumont tells us that the 
last one left was any thing but beautiful — in 
fact, looked more like a guardsman than a 
girl. But so great was the desire of these 
men for homes and domestic happiness that a 
fight for her possession was imminent. The 
commandant hearing of it, required the rivals 
to draw lots for her. 

The colony languished until 1 7 1 2, when it was 
leased to the great French merchant, Anthony 
Crozat, for fifteen years, with extraordinary 
privileges. His principal obligation in return 
was to send every year to Louisiana two 
ship-loads of colonists, and after nine years to 

26 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

assume all the expenses of the government. 
Around this period in the history of the little 
colony Gayarre weaves one of his prettiest 
romances. 

Crozat had been the son of a peasant, but 
he was foster-brother to one of the greatest 
patricians of France. His foster-brother be- 
came his benefactor, educated him, and se- 
cured for him a fine position in a commercial 
house. He married his employer's daughter, 
and after his death, with his wife's inheritance 
and his own brilliant successes, he became one 
of the wealthiest merchants of France. His 
wife and only child, a daughter, were his idols, 
and when his wife died his whole heart was 
centered on his daughter — refined, frail and 
beautiful as a lily. 

The dowager Duchess, touched with the lone- 
liness of the motherless girl, asked her to visit 
her palace. There the beautiful Andrea learned 
to love, with all the intensity of her being, the 
sole heirto all these princely possessions, but he 
was soon betrothed to another equal to him in 
rank and station. When the preparations for 
the nuptials began, heartbroken, Andrea return- 
ed to her father and he learned the secret of her 
love. Almost crazed with this great grief in 
her life, he determined to do the one thing 

27 



Romance and Realism 

that could prevent the marriage. It was be- 
lieved that the noble girl who was to marry 
the son of his foster-brother loved another ; 
equal to her in rank, he could not wed her 
because his patrician estate was hopelessly 
bankrupt. Crozat went to him, gave him a 
royal sum, and told him that it was due to 
his estate from an injustice of many years ago. 
In bewildered surprise the sum was accepted, 
and he married the woman he loved and who 
loved him. Then Crozat confessed to the 
dowager Duchess and told her of his daugh- 
ter's breaking heart. The Duchess listened 
in stern sadness, but it was impossible! While 
she loved the beautiful Andrea, the difference 
in rank was too great, nor could Andrea marry 
her son unless her father "was a Medici, a 
ruler of provinces, and had a historical name." 
Crozat thought of the new country, with its 
untold riches and boundless territory, and de- 
termined to risk every thing for the happiness 
of his child. Such is the romance of Crozat's 
possession of the small colony on the sea- 
board. If Gayarre confesses to giving the 
story a few touches of his imagination in re- 
gard to Andrea's name, her death and that of 
her father after the failure of the enterprise, 
the story is not the less pathetic, and prob- 

28 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

ably quite as authentic as many other historic 
records. 

Cadillac was the first governor appointed 
by Crozat, and the selection could not have 
been more unfortunate. He was utterly lack- 
ino- in diplomacy, and was narrow-minded and 
arrogant. Crozat had promised to him a share 
of the profits from any mines that he would 
discover, and his patrician poverty was only 
exceeded by his avarice. Iberville, SauvoUe 
and Bienville had received and welcomed each 
friendly demonstration from the Indians, and 
treated their customs with respect. When 
Iberville landed at Biloxi the Indians rubbed 
his face with white dirt in testimony of their 
friendship; but when Cadillac was sailing up 
the Mississippi river and the Natchez Indians 
offered him their calumet, he scorned to touch 
with his lordly lips a pipe that had been in 
the mouth of an Indian. A few days after this 
the Natchez killed four Canadians ; they could 
not understand Cadillac's manner, and be- 
lieved it to be a delaration of war. 

The word calumet is derived from the Nor- 

■ man w^ord chalumeaii, and signifies the reed 

or rustic pipe smoked by Norman peasants. 

The French introduced the word into Canada. 

A most unique Indian masquerade party 

29 



Romance and Realism 

was given in the early days of the colony, and 
combined within itself all the elements of 
comedy and tragedy. 

In order to impress the Indians with the 
magnificence of the French court, a party of 
them was induced to visit Paris. Among them 
was the daughter of the Illinois chief. She 
was very beautiful, and loved the commander 
of the French fort in the country of the Illinois. 

There was also with the party that went to 
France a young sergeant, Dubois. The 
French court received their novel visitors 
with enthusiastic welcome. A deer-hunt was 
planned for the warriors at the Bois de Bou- 
logne, and the Indian maidens were toasted, 
feted, and were the belles of the hour. The 
Indian princess was converted to Christianity, 
and at court her marriage with Dubois was 
celebrated with brilliant pomp, and the king 
appointed Dubois captain and commandant of 
the Illinois country. All of the party were 
loaded with presents, and returned to New 
Orleans delighted with themselves and their 
entertainers. 

Dubois and his Indian bride seemed to be 
happy for a time ; but she wearied of her civ- 
ilization masquerade, and longed more and 
more for the freedom of forest life. Finally 

30 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

she entered into a conspiracy with her tribe, 
and the members of the French garrison, in- 
ckiding Dubois, were massacred. The savage 
instinct was irrepressible. 

With the first Natchez war is interwoven 
another romance of those early days, but it is 
a story of love, disappointment, revenge, and 
the furv of a woman scorned. Cadillac, in his 
churlish arrogance, made discord with every 
element around him, and, jealous of Bien- 
ville's popularity, was especially antagonistic 
to him. 

Cadillac nad a daughter, but alas ! she was 
not fair, having in face and figure inherited 
her father's qualities ; but she looked upon 
Bienville's noble face and stately form, and 
felt that it would be sweet to lean upon his 
strong arm during those troublous times. Her 
heart went out more than half way to meet him. 
Cadillac considered the situation, and, think- 
ing that such a marriage would be an advan- 
tage to him, sent for Bienville and made 
the offer of marriag^e to him. Astonished and 
amused, Bienville declined it. Then was 
Cadillac's small soul lashed into a fury of re- 
venge. He determined to destroy Bienville, 
and again sending for him, ordered him with a 
force of thirty-four men to attack the Natchez 

31 



Romance and Realism 

and avenge the death of the four Canadians. 
Bienville protested that with such a force it 
would be impossible, but Cadillac's law was 
like that of the Medes and Persians. 

Bienville started with his little company, and 
determined to do by strategy what he could not 
accomplish by force. This was in 1716. He 
first went to an island in the Mississippi, op- 
posite the Tunicas and eighteen leagues below 
Natchez. Pretending to wish to trade with 
them, he captured the "Great Sun" and his 
two brothers, the " Stung Serpent " and " The 
Little Sun." By his treaty with them they 
agreed to build a substantial fort at Natchez. 
While Iberville, Bienville, Tonti and others 
had visited this place before, and occasionally 
hunters had settled there, this may be regarded 
as the first permanent settlement ol the beau- 
tiful city of Natchez. It was named Fort 
Rosalie in honor of the Countess Pontchar- 
train. Thus Bienville ended the war without 
bloodshed, founded Natchez, and defended the 
citadel of his own heart. 

This was not the first time during Bienville's 
life on the seashore that Cupid had sent his 
hurtling arrows above his head. The first en- 
counter, however, was not of such a personal 
nature. 

32 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

In 1705, when Louis the XIV sent over the 
twenty girls, they were chaperoned by a 
widow, charming and irresistible, as widows 
always have been and always will be. Major 
Boisbriant, Bienville's cousin, lost his heart to 
her, and his was not a case of unrequited love. 
All went smoothly until Bienville's strong op- 
position stemmed the current. Major Bois- 
briant yielded, but the lady, with woman's in- 
domitable will, remained firm and indignant. 
La Salle and the Curate de la Vente had given 
Bienville much trouble by their intrigues and 
slanderous reports of him at court, and now 
the aggrieved widow added her words of in- 
dignant protest. In a letter to the prime min- 
ister she writes of Bienville's tyranny in every 
department, and especially her own wrongs. 
She annihilates him with this closing sentence : 
"It is therefore evident that he has not the 
necessary qualifications to be governor of this 
colony." He was, however, retained as gov- 
ernor, and the marriage did not take place. 
Still, we see the early independence of the 
women of this country, and that they soon be- 
came not only a social and domestic, but also 
political element. 

When the French girls came over they 
found formidable rivals in those first women of 

33 



Romance and Realism 



> 




o 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

the South who dwelt by the sea. The French 
and Canadians sought them for wives, and 
who can wonder when we read Claiborne's 
description of them : " The dusky maidens of 
Mississippi, with their flashing eyes and volup- 
tuous forms, their delicate hands and feet, and 
their raven hair that brushed the dewdrops as 
they walked, modestly drooping their glances 
at the approach of a warrior. The Choctaw 
language was beautiful, and some of the 
women sang well, their voices low and sweet, 
corresponding with their gentle manners and 
modest deportment. But they were gay, so- 
cial, fascinating, and their laugh like the ripple 
of a brook over its pebbly bed." 

After reading this description who can won- 
der that if the conqueror took from the Indian 
girl her lands and her wild, sweet freedom, he 
often gave her in return for it his true, chival- 
ric love ? 

It is a misfortune of life that the step of 
realism often touches so close upon the heel 
of romance, that it crushes out the flowers of 
imagination. As we see the Indian of the 
present day, listless, dull, swarthy and slouchy, 
sitting in the French market, the thought in- 
voluntarily presents itself, did poetry throw 
over those early^ days the halo of romance, or 

35 



Romance and Realism 

has civilization only given to the poor In- 
dian its physical enervation without supply- 
ing- the mental qualities to withstand its temp- 
tations ? 

36 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 



CHAPTER III. 

In 1 71 7, Bienville was reappointed governor, 
and the seat of government was moved from 
Mobile and Dauphine Island to Biloxi. As 
the old fort had been burned at what is now 
called Ocean Springs, New Biloxi was built 
upon the point of land to the west of the bay 
immediately fronting Ship Island. 

In March, 1718, Bienville selected the present 
site of New Orleans between what are now 
Canal and Esplanade streets, and set fifty men 
to clearing away the trees. Owing to the 
differences of Bienville and Hubert, the seat 
of government was not transferred to New 
Orleans until 1722, after which this city grad- 
ually became the Paris of the South. The 
French were devoted to the mother country, 
and felt that it was infamous when, in 1763, 
Louis XV induced his cousin, Charles III, of 
Spain to take Louisiana off his hands. So in- 
dignant were the French against Spanish do- 
minion that in 1768 they rebelled against it, 
but they were defeated and their leaders exe- 
cuted. This is one of the darkest tragedies 
of Louisiana history. 

37 



Romance and Realism 

Afterward, however, the Spanish rule was 
very lenient and just. Governor Gayoso and 
Governor Galvez were especially beloved, and 
Governor Miro was so popular that when Ten- 
nessee was settled, the central portion of the 
state was named for him. In the treaty of 
peace between Great Britain, Spain and France, 
the Spaniards acquired New Orleans, but the 
greater part of the Mississippi seaboard was 
ceded to Great Britain and prospered under 
British rule. Governor Galvez, however, after- 
ward recaptured it. 

Spain was not unwilling when she ceded 
her Louisiana territory to France by the treaty 
of Ildefonso in 1800. She feared for her 
Mexican possessions, and thought France 
would be a rampart between her and the 
United States. 

Although New Orleans was so long under 
the dominion of the Spaniards, the Spanish 
language was spoken officially only, the French 
being retained for social and family circles. 
Although loyal citizens of this country, the 
French have never given up their language 
as Spaniards, Germans or Italians have done 
imder like circumstances. 

Much information is gained on these sub- 

38 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

jects from Mr. Alcce Fortier, professor of 
French lano^uao^e and hterature in Tulane Uni- 
versity, New Orleans. He tells us that so 
generally was the French language spoken in 
Louisiana that in the legislature of the state, 
there was a regular interpreter appointed for 
each house at a salary of ^2,000; it was his 
duty to translate, if required, the speeches and 
motions of the members. It was, it seems, 
very amusing to see a Creole representative 
abusing an American colleague, who remained 
perfectly unconcerned until the interpreter 
translated the hostile address ; then the party 
attacked would suddenly rise and reply in 
vehement terms, which had also to be trans- 
lated before the opposing member could reply. 

The court rooms were provided with French, 
English and Spanish interpreters, and the 
juries divided as evenly as possible between 
English and French. When the case was 
being presented in English, the French were 
excused, and when it was argued in French, 
the English were excused. Together they 
retired to the jury room, and by some mar- 
velous process generally arrived at a correct 
verdict. 

The Creoles of Louisiana are the white de- 
scendants of the French and Spanish colonists, 

39 



Romance and Realism 

and have in their veins some of the blue blood 
of the noblest families of France and Spain. 
The depreciatory light in which Mr. George 
W. Cable has represented them in his works 
has aroused their just indignation. Dr. W. 
H. Holcomb says of them: "These men 
were the root stock or foundation head of the 
Creole civilization, a social state distinguished 
for the courage and honorable bearing of its 
men, the beauty and refinement of its women, 
and the highly polished manners of both sexes." 

The pretty quadroon girls who wait in the 
hotels on the southern seacoast claim with 
perfect equanimity that they are Creoles. This 
is somewhat bewildering to strangers and a 
very unjust reflection of color on the subject. 
Possibly no word in the English language has 
been more abused than the word Creole. 

The names of many places in this region 
are not only historic, but have a story within 
a story. The French name Baton Rouge not 
only indicates French possession, but it tells 
an Indian story. The Houmas, after they had 
won a victory over the Tunicas, planted upon 
that spot a " baton rouge," or " red stick," to 
signify that the Tunicas were never to cross it 
on the war-path. 

Louisiana was named for the French king, 

40 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

and the two large lakes near New Orleans for 
two prime ministers — Pontchartrain and Maure- 
pas. Pontchartrain, a man of great talent and 
sterling integrity, was chancellor of France un- 
der Louis XIV. Maurepas, minister of Louis 
XV, was a man of great ability, but dissolute 
habits. Pearl river was so called because there 
the Indians found the shells with which they 
scraped out their canoes after burning them, and 
within these shells they often found beautiful 
pearls. Yazoo river means the *' river of death," 
and Amite river was so named because there 
Iberville found the Indians most friendly. 

One of the first names given by the Span- 
iards to the Mississippi river was '' The River 
of the Holy Ghost;" other Spanish names 
were Rio Grande, Rio Esconnido ; La Salle 
first called it St. Louis, and afterward Colbert ; 
La Palisade was one of the French names, 
from the number of snags and drift-wood in 
the passes at the mouth of the river. Mal- 
bou-chia was the name given to it by the In- 
dians of the East, but the Indians of the West 
called it Me-ac-cha-sippi, Me-she-o-be, Mec-a- 
she-ba, and Meche Sepe, all signifying the 
Father of Waters. 

Justin Winsor tells us that the original spell- 
ing of Mississippi, the nearest approach to 

41 



Romance and Realism 

the Algonquin word, is Meche Sebe, a form 
still commonly used by the Louisiana Creoles. 
Tonty suggested Miche Sepe ; Father Laval, 
Michisepe, which by Father Labatt was soft-- 
ened into Misisipi. Marquette added the first ( 
s in Missisipi, and some other explorer added \ 
a second s in Mississipi, as it is spelled in i 
France to-day. No one knows who added a . 
second p in Mississippi, for it was generally 
spelled with one p when the United States 
bought Louisiana. 

Free navigation of the Mississippi, a much- 
vexed question, was granted in 1795, and the 
first steamboat came down the river in 181 1. 

There is not, perhaps, in the history of Mis- 
" sissippi, a name that graces its pages more 
than that of Claiborne. It has always been 
an honored one. Governor Claiborne had 
been governor of the Mississippi Territory, but 
when Orleans Territory was formed in 1804, he 
was appointed its governor, and appointed first 
state governor of Louisiana in 181 2. In 18 10, 
the Mississippi seaboard was divided into the 
parishes of Biloxi and Pascagoula, and the year 
afterward Governor Claiborne sent Dr. Flood 
to establish these parishes. A good idea of 
the sea-shore at that time may be gathered 

42 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

from his communication to Governor Clai- 
borne : 

*' In compliance with your instructions, I 
embarked in the Alligator on the 5th, and 
proceeded to Mr. Simon Favre's, on the east- 
ern bank of Pearl river. He is a planter, 
owns a large stock, and is an educated and 
very agreeable gentleman. He accepted the 
commission with pleasure, and will make an 
energetic officer, and seems greatly to value 
the respect you have for him. I hoisted the 
flag of the United States at Bay St. Louis on 
the 8th, and handed the commission to Phillip 
Saucier, a venerable gentleman of prepossess- 
ing manners and with a patriarchal appear- 
ance. Next day, displayed the flag at the 
Pass, and proceeded to the Bay of Biloxi, 
where I found Mr. Ladnier and gave him the 
commission. He is a man of excellent sense, 
but can neither read nor write, nor can any in- 
habitant of the Bay of Biloxi that I can hear 
of They are all along this beautiful coast a 
primitive people of mixed origin, retaining the 
gayety and politeness of the French blended 
with the abstemiousness and indolence of the 
Indian. They plant a little rice and a few 
roots and vegetables, but depend for subsist- 
ence chiefly on game and fish. I left with all 

43 



Romance and Realism 

these appointees copies of the laws, ordi- 
nances, etc., but few laws will be wanted here. 
The people are universally honest. There are 
no crimes. The father of the family or the 
oldest inhabitant settles all disputes. The 
population of Pascagoula parish is about 350 ; 
of the parish of Biloxi, 420, chiefly of French 
and Creoles. A more inoffensive and inno- 
cent people may not be found. They seem to 
desire only the simple necessities of life and 
to be let alone in their tranquillity." 

But the Mississippi seaboard has caught the 
spirit of the times, and feels surging through 
its every vein the nervous life and progress 
of the Nineteenth Century. Not so, however, 
with all the people of the coast, for there is 
still a people in Louisiana charming in primi- 
tive simplicity. As Charles Dudley Warner 
tells us, the peculiarity of this community is 
in its freedom from all the hurry and worry 
and information of modern life. For them the 
customs and knowledge of 1755 are quite suf- 
ficient, and while some of them are cultured 
men and women, the majority can neither read 
nor write, considering that this especial phase 
of the worry and information of modern life is 
unnecessary. 

In 1605, a small French settlement was 

44 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

made in Nova Scotia — the word Acadian is 
derived from the word Aquoddie, an Indian 
term for a fish called the pollock. These 
people were of exquisite simplicity of charac- 
ter and habits. 

"Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian 
farmers, — 

Dwelt in the love of God and man. Alike were they 
free from 

Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of 
republics. 

Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their 
windows ; 

But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of 
their owners ; 

There the richest was poor and the poorest lived in abun- 
dance." 

They were most loyal in their devotion to 
France, but when they passed under the reign 
of the English this loyalty was feared, espe- 
cially as their numbers increased alarmingly. 
Finally they were expelled by the English 
from their beautiful homes, and, penniless and 
heart-broken, drifted along the Atlantic shore. 
Many places gave them homes, but the dearest 
spot discovered by them was the beautiful 
country near New Orleans watered by the 
Teche. There they were welcomed with gen- 

45 



Romance and Realism 

erous hospitality ; there they found their own 
language, a genial climate, and rich soil. 

Longfellow has immortalized the sufferings 
of the Acadians in his beautiful poem of Evan- 
geline — Evangeline, the daughter of Benedict, 
and Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the 
blacksmith. Separated from her love in that 
dreadful eviction from their home, for years 
she vainly sought him ; vainly sought him in 
the fair Louisiana country : 

'' ' Sunshine of Saint Eulalie ' was she called; for that was 

the sunshine, 
Which, as the farmers believed, would load their orchard 

with apples. 

He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face of 

the morning, 
Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened thought 

into action. 

Far asunder on separate coasts the Acadians landed. 
Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind 

from the north-east 
Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the banks of 

Newfoundland. 
Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city 

to city. 

Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the fever 
within her, 

46 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

Urged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst of the 
spirit, 

She would commence again her endless search and en- 
deavor ; 

Sometimes in churchyard strayed, and gazed on the 
crosses and tombstones, 

Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in 
its bosom. 

He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside 
him. 

Thus did that poor soul wander in want and cheerless dis- 
comfort 

Bleeding, barefooted over the shards and thorns of ex- 
istence. 

But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision, that 
faintly 

Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through the 
moonlight. 

It was the thought of her brain that assumed the shape of 
a phantom 

Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered be- 
fore her. 

And every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer and 
nearer. 

Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an open- 
ing heaven 

Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions ce- 
lestial. 

Nor that day, nor the next, nor yet the day succeeding, 
Found they trace of his course, in lake or forest or river, 
Nor, after many days had they found him. 

47 



Romance and Realism 

Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was his 
image, 

Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she be- 
held him. 

Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and 
absence. 

Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was not. 

Over him years had no power ; for he was not changed 
but transfigured; 

He had become to her heart as one who is dead, and not 
absent ; 

Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others. 

This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught 
her. 

So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices. 

Suffered no waste nor loss though filling the air with aroma. 

Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to 

Meekly follow with reverent steps the sacred feet of her 
Savior. 

Thus many years she lived as a sister of mercy; fre- 
quenting 

Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of the 
city. 

Where distress and want concealed themselves from the 
sunhght 

Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected. 

All was ended now, the hope and the fear and the sorrow, 

All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, 

All the dull, deep, pain, and constant anguish of patience! 

And as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her 

bosom. 

Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, ' Father, I 

thank Thee.'" 

48 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

A charming little book, "In Acadia," by 
Margaret Avery Johnston (Mrs. William Pres- 
ton Johnston), gives a complete picture of the 
Acadians. 

In striking contrast to them were the Bara- 
tarians who lived on the southern coast of 
Louisiana. The story of one is like a still fair 
landscape with softly floating clouds above it ; 
that of the other like the rushing, seething 
waters of Niagara, carrying every thing before 
its strong current ; one wanted little here be- 
low, the other reached out its grasping hands 
for all the luxuries of the earth ; the romance 
of one was instinct with the gentlest passions 
that could stir the human heart, the romance 
of the other was a dare-devil recklessness and 
thrilling adventures — for the Baratarians were 
the followers of the Lafitte brothers, the bold 
buccaneers and terrors of the sea. 

Barataria really included all the gulf coast 
between the Mississippi river and Bayou 
LaFourche, but the home of the Lafittes was 
on the beautiful island of Grand Terre on 
Barataria Bay. Miss Grace King gives us the 
possible derivation of the word : It will be re- 
membered that Barataria was the name of the 
island presented by the frolicsome duchess to 
Sancho Panza for his sins as he learned to 

49 



Romance and Realism 

remember it. How or wlien the name came to 
Louisiana is still to be discovered, whether di- 
rectly from Don Quixote or from the source 
which supplied Le Sage with it ; the etymology 
of the word Barateaii meaning Barato, cheap 
things. 

When Lafitte was outlawed and a reward of- 
fered for his capture, under an assumed name 
he accidentally met Madame Claiborne, and so 
charmed was she with the fascinating stranger, 
that when she returned to the Governor she 
was most enthusiastic. 

Grand Terre is now deserted except, as Laf- 
cadio Hearn beautifully describes it, by "a 
whirling flower-drift of sleepy butterflies." 

Cable tells us that in 1795 New Orleans was 
nothing but a market town. The Cathedral, 
the Convent of the Ursulines, five or six cafes, 
and about a hundred houses were all of it. 
Only two dry-goods stores — pins, ^20.00 a 
paper, and poor people had to use thorns 
for pins. A needle cost 50 cents, stock- 
ings $5.00 a pair, postage on a letter 50 cents. 
The fashions and etiquette allowed only silks 
and velvets for visits of ceremony, and though 
you smothered you obeyed these tyrannical 
laws ! 

Many amusing stories are told of the great 

50 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

formahty of those early days, but at the same 
time there was often blended with it a humor- 
ous brusqueness and frontier independence. 
Claiborne gives us a story of camp-life : In 
1798 the first United States troops that came 
down the Mississippi were quartered at Fort 
Adams. Gen. Wilkinson, Col. Hamtramck, 
Maj. Butler, Capt. Green and other officers 
were merry over their punch one night, and the 
general by some accident got his queue singed 
off. Next day he issued an order forbidding 
any officer to appear with a queue. Major 
Butler refused to obey, and was put under ar- 
rest. Soon after he was very sick, and when 
he knew he could not live he made his will, and 
gave instructions for his burial, which he knew 
would be attended by the whole command. 

'' Bore a hole," said he, "through the bottom 
of my coffin right under my head, and let my 
queue come through it, that the d — d old ras- 
cal may see that even when dead I refuse to 
obey his order." These directions were liter- 
ally complied with. 

That early period was not characterized by 
the freedom of action and speech which is now 
enjoyed by our Republic. When the strug- 
gling colonists demanded of Cadillac that all 
nations should be allowed to trade freely with 

51 



Romance and Realism 

them, and that when they were dissatisfied 
they could move out of the province, he was 
most indignant. He wrote an angry letter to 
the Prime Minister saying : " Freedom of 
trade and freedom of action ! A pretty thing ! 
What would become of Crozat's privileges?" 
Fortunately, however, all the governors of that 
time were not Cadillacs. 

Having given a chapter to the Indians, we 
now reach a class of people much nearer to us, 
and that will most probably remain in Dixie so 
long as there is a cotton row to be followed by 
a negro, a plow and a mule. The very men- 
tion of the South brings visions of white cotton 
fields and looming above them the woolly 
heads and shiny teeth of the darkey. The 
responsibilities of life weigh more heavily upon 
him now, and his laughter is not so frequent as 
it used to be ; but his sunny disposition is a her- 
itage of the tropics, and he will always be happy 
and improvident. 

Before entering upon this subject a few words 
are due to King Cotton, the staple of the 
South. Immediately upon the seacoast the at- 
mosphere is rather too damp for its production, 
but a few miles inland and the Mississippi val- 
ley produces the finest grade of cotton, mak- 
ing New Orleans one of the largest cotton-ship- 

52 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

phig ports of the world. A variety of cotton 
seed is used in Mississippi, but for many years 
one of the most popular was the Mexican seed. 
This was introduced into the United States by 
a diplomatic ruse, it is said. The story is told 
that Gen. Wilknison sent Walter Burling Oi' 
Natchez on a diplomatic mission to Mexico in 
1806. He dined with the viceroy and re- 
quested some Mexican seed, but as this was 
against the Mexican law. the viceroy declined. 
He told Mr. Burling laughingly over his wine, 
however, that he could take as many Mexican 
dolls as he wished, and it was tacitly under- 
stood that these dolls should be stuffed with 
cotton seed. 

In 1708 Bienville wrote to the government 
to obtain authority to exchange Indians for ne- 
groes. '*We shall give," said he, "three In- 
dians for two negroes. The Indians, when in 
the islands, will not be able to run away, the 
country being unknown to them, and the ne- 
groes would not dare to become fugitives in 
Lousiana because the Indians would kill them." 
This does not seem to have met with any fa- 
vorable consideration, and the proposition re- 
flects no credit on a man of Bienville's fine 
character The entire ring of it makes an 
unpleasant impression. 

When Crozat gave up his lease in 171 7, the 

53 



Romance and Realism 




c 
> 

< 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

West India Company leased it for twenty-five 
years, and in the charter bound itself to introduce 
3,000 Africans. Thus early in the history of New 
England, Virginia and Louisiana the blight 
of slavery was imprinted on the colonies. In 
July, 1720, the first cargo of negroes came. 

No humanitarian could advocate slavery, and 
there was doubtless pathetic physical and men- 
tal suffering on those terrible slave ships. We 
should remember, however, that these simple, 
ignorant blacks were taken from their homes 
of absolute darkness and superstition, and 
that many " Mars Chans" and " Meh Ladies " 
were waiting on these southern shores to hold 
them in such gentle bonds and teach them 
such loving service, that they forgot that they 
were slaves. 

Slavery has existed in some forms in all 
ages ; but nowhere upon the pages of history 
do we find any- thing like the tender, inexplic- 
able and devoted bond between the Southern 
master and his slave. 

In that sweet long ago what Southern child 
could forget the delight of a visit to '' de quar-. 
ters " — the rows of nicely whitewashed negro 
cabins near the white house. There our de- 
voted hosts bustled around with noisy hospi- 
tality, drawing down from the loft some of their 

55 



Romance and Realism 

treasures of hickory nuts, walnuts, and other 
goodies ; roasting eggs for us in the ashes, 
giving to us risen pone corn-bread and fresh 
vegetables — for every cabin was provided with 
its little patch of ground at the back. And 
the little piccaninnies rolled over each other on 
the floor, like black kittens, a sable heap of 
delight 

''Oh, de cabin at de quarters, in de ole plantation days, 
Wid de garden patch behine it an' de godevine by 
de do'. 
An' de do'yard sot wid roses, whar de chillun runs an 
plays, 
An' de streak o' sunshine, yaller-like, er slantin' on 
de flo'!" 

As for mammy, such a thing as rebellion 
against her was almost undreampt of, for she 
was high in authority. The lessons that she 
taught us in good manners were correct in the 
extreme, for had she not been '' 'mongst de 
white folks long 'nuff ter know?" Some of 
the other lessons that she taught sank deep in 
childish memory. 

You must always burn and not throw 
away your hair, because the birds will pick 
it up to make their nests, and that will 
make you crazy. If a child teething looks at 
himself in the mirror his teething will be pain- 

56 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

ful. If you have a sore on the tip of your 
tongue it is a sign that you have Hed. If you 
forget what you were going to say, it is a sign 
that you were going to He. If you sweep the 
feet of a child with a broom, it will make him 
walk early. To cure a wart take a green pea, 
rub it on the wart, then take the pea and wrap 
it in a piece of paper and throw it away ; the 
person who will pick it up will get the wart. 
You must watch for a full moon if you want to 
make soap. In those days, if the smiling but 
determined mothers had not asserted their au- 
thority and trimmed their babies' finger nails, 
they would have grown out like little birds' 
talons and scratched their tender faces. The 
nurses always insisted that to trim the nails 
would make the child steal. 

The greatest terror was felt of the will-o'- 
the-wisp. We were told that so surely as we 
should go out of the yard after dark, without a 
grown person, this unknown fiendish spirit 
would catch us and drag us over bogs and 
through bushes, exclaiming all the time, " I 
have you ! I have you ! " 

All such stories had a perfect fascination for 
the children, and the more startling their char- 
acter, told by these black mammies in the flick- 
ering firelight or by the ghostly moonlight, the 

57 



Romance and Realism 

greater was the shuddering deHght which they 
produced. 

Southerners are not more superstitious than 
other people, and they show their wonderful 
strength of character in throwing off these 
numberless superstitions that they absorbed 
almost with their first breath of intellio-ence 
from these devoted attendants. 

Mr. Fortier mentions all of these supersti- 
tions and many more in his "Louisiana Stud- 
ies," and his description of New Year's Day, 
on the southern coast, gives such a vivid and 
charming scene of plantation life in Louisiana, 
that it is repeated in full : 

"At daylight, on the first of January, the 
rejoicing began on the plantation ; every thing 
was in an uproar, and all the negroes, old and 
young, were running about, shaking hands 
and exchanging wishes for the new year. 
The servants employed at the house came to 
awaken the master and mistress and the chil- 
dren. The nurses came to our beds to present 
their soithaits. To the boys it was always, 
' Mo souhaite ke vou bon gar^on, fe plein 
I'argent e ke vou bienhereux ; ' to the girls, 
' Mo souhaite ke vou bon ^^, ke vou gagnin 
ein mari riche e plein piti. ' 

"Even the very old and infirm, who had not 

58 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

left the hospital for months, came to the house 
with the rest of r ate lie j^ for their gifts. These 
they were sure to get, each person receiving 
a piece of an ox killed expressly for them, 
several pounds of flour, and a new tin pan and 
spoon. The men received, besides, a new 
jean or cottonade suit of clothes, and the wo- 
men a dress and a most gaudy handkerchief, 
or tignon, the redder the better. Each woman 
that had had a child during the year received 
two dresses instead of one. After the soiiJiaits 
were presented to the masters, and the gifts 
were made, the dancing and singing began. 
The scene was indeed striking, interesting and 
weird. Two or three hundred men and women 
were there in front of the house, wild with 
joy and most boisterous, although always re- 
spectful. 

''Their musical instruments were, first, a 
barrel with one end covered with an ox-hide — 
this was the drum ; then two sticks and the 
jawbone of a mule, with the teeth still on it — 
this was the violin. The principal musician 
bestrode the barrel and began to beat on the 
hide, singing as loud as he could. He beat 
with his hands, with his feet, and sometimes, 
when quite carried away by his enthusiasm, 
with his head also. The second musician 

59 



Romance and Realism 

took the sticks and beat on the wood of the 
barrel, while the third made a dreadful music 
by rattling the teeth of the jawbone with a 
stick. Five or six men stood around the 
musicians and sang without stopping. All 
this produced a most strange and savage 
music, but, withal, not disagreeable, as the 
negroes have a very good ear for music, and 
keep a pleasant rhythm in their songs. These 
dancing songs generally consisted of one 
phrase, repeated for hours on the same air. 

''In the dance called carabine, and which was 
quite graceful, the man took his danseuse by 
the hand, and made her turn around very rap- 
idly for more than an hour, the woman waving 
a red handkerchief over her head, and every 
one singing — 

' Madame Gobar, en sortant di bal, 
Madame Gobar, tignon li tombe.' - 

"The other dance, called ///<? CJiactas, was 
not as graceful as the carabine, but was more 
strange. The woman had to dance almost 
without moving her feet. It was the man who 
did all the work, turning around her, kneeling 
down, making the most grotesque and extraor- 
dinary faces, writhing like a serpent, while the 
woman was almost immovable. After a little 

60 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

while, however, she began to get excited, and, 
untying her neckerchief, she waved it around 
gracefully, and finally ended by wiping off the 
perspiration from the face of her da^iseur, and 
also from the faces of the musicians who 
played the barrel and the jawbone, an act 
which must have been gratefully received by 
those sweltering individuals. 

''The ball, for such it was, lasted for several 
hours, and was a great amusement to us chil- 
dren. It must have been less entertaining to 
our parents, but they never interfered, as they 
considered that, by a well-established custom. 
New Year's Day was one of mirth and pleas- 
ure for the child-like slaves." 

Nothing in the world could so terribly 
frighten a negro as the thought of being 
''hoodooed," and the real voudouism was 
something to be feared. It was a knowledge 
of the subtle vegetable poisons brought from 
Africa by the negroes, and which always 
meant slow death to their victims. They 
prayed to the devil, for they considered him 
God, and their dances and religious rites in 
secluded places were frightfully grotesque. A 
great deal of voudouism, however, was simply 
ridiculous and harmless ceremonies. Mr. For- 
tier tells us that one of his friends, passing a 

6i 



Romance and Realism 

house late at night, saw on the doorsteps two 
lighted candles and between them four nickels 
placed as a cross. Being determined to save 
the family from destruction, the gentleman 
blew out the candles, threw them away, and 
pocketed the nickels. Thus all danger was 
averted. 

Louisiana negroes pride themselves upon 
their superiority over the ordinary negro, be- 
cause many of them have straight hair. This 
is due, however, to the fact that in the early 
days of the colony there were many Indians 
and neofro slaves workinof toorether, and the 
two races became intermixed. When there 
was a mixture of white blood with the negro 
the different grades were known as mulatto, 
quadroons, octaroons and griffes. 

In the terrible insurrection of the blacks 
against the whites in San Domingo, 1791, 
a large number of San Domingans found refuge 
in Louisiana, some bringing slaves. The 
Louisianians felt the greatest anxiety for fear 
that this might cause an uprising by their 
negroes, but there was never any serious 
trouble on their account. 

Under the Black Code before the civil war, 
masters were compelled to care for their slaves 
when disabled by old age or sickness. If the 

62 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

master failed to do this, the slave was sent to 
the nearest hospital, and the derelict master 
was taxed so much a day for his support ; and 
if he failed to pay, the hospital had a lien on 
his plantation for that amount. 

The principle of slavery, however, was ac- 
knowledged to be wrong, not only by the 
North, but by the South. The trend of South- 
ern thought and legislation was the liberation 
of the negro, but it was a stupendous subject, 
which time alone could have peacefully solved. 

In the revised constitution of Mississippi of 
1832, a remarkable clause prohibited the in- 
troduction of slaves as merchandise or for sale 
from and after May i, 1833. This was when 
slaves were most remunerative. In the Con- 
stitution of the Confederate States, the slave 
trade was forbidden. 

If the North and the South had waited only 
a little longer ; and had they not made the ter- 
rible mistake of thinking that war was the only 
way of settling the question, brother would 
never have been arrayed against brother. 
The heroes in the blue and in the gray Avould 
never have shed their life-blood, and the voice 
of lamentation would not have been heard all 
over the land. 



Romance and Realism. 



CHAPTER IV. 

NEW ORLEANS. 

One of the first poetical names of New Or- 
leans was Houma, or Sun. The Parisian has 
transformed this weed-covered marsh, with Its 
trees draped in melancholy gray moss, Into a 
brilliant garden filled with flowers and opti- 
mistic life, for to him life means laughter, 
lightness and love. 

When the marshy streets were impassable 
with mud. It was not sufficient cause to prevent 
joyous reunions. Upon raised planks on the 
banquettes the families went forth — first a 
slave preceding them with lanterns, next 
another slave bearing the satin slippers and 
other articles of full dress that were to be 
donned in the dressing-room, and last came 
the family. If the evening was too inclement 
for the ball, a crier went through the streets 
and announced it to the sound of a drum, and 
it was always understood It would take place 
the next pleasant evening. 

Later, when pavements permitted the luxury 
of carriages and when theaters were built, the 

64 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

regular evening outfit for a fashionable cavalier 
was : a stall for four, white kid gloves for the 
ladies, coffee for the party, or perhaps a more 
expensive supper at a restaurant. When the 
Opera House was opened people were con- 
sidered out of the bounds of cultivated society 
unless they attended the theater or opera sev- 
eral evenings during the week, and at any 
hour of the day or evening there came through 
the windows that always stood open, soft re- 
frains from the opera — not alone from the 
stately drawing-rooms, but from the streets 
and the slave quarters. All the air seemed 
vibrant with melody. And meeting some of 
the family servants in the French Market, you 
were greeted with a quaint curtsey, a happy 
smile, and perhaps a quotation from Shak- 
speare — household words in the families in 
which they served, and all spoken in French. 

How vividly these scenes contrast with the 
early customs of the Pilgrim fathers in Boston ! 
One all life and light and color ; the other 
stern, rugged strength, based upon the aus- 
terest form of religion. Had the varied ele- 
ments that composed the New Orleans popu- 
lation landed in Boston, the dignified calm of 
that place would have been shaken and shocked 
to its inmost center. 

65 



Romance and Realism 

To the western Parisian, the picturesque, 
the dramatic, and the poetic were inherent 
characteristics, but it was only at times that 
his butterfly wings carried him into an excess 
of frivolity. His heart and his home were 
open to the refugees of the earth, wherever 
they were persecuted and unfortunate. 

There were no blue-coated police, but the 
watchmen of New Orleans were arrayed in 
gorgeous uniforms, and sang forth the hours 
of the night and the state of the weather until 
the rhythmic cadence echoed from street to 
street: "Eight o'clock and fair." "Nine 
o'clock and cloudy." In the winter, a cannon 
was fired at eight o'clock, and in summer at 
nine o'clock, for all subordinates to go to their 
homes, and after that time all slaves and strag- 
glers were required to show passes from their 
masters and employers. 

On the streets, you met "haughty habitans 
fresh from Canada, rude trappers and hunters, 
voyageurs and coureurs de bois ; plain, unpretend- 
ing Cadians from the Attakapas, arrayed in 
their home-made blue cottonades, and redolent 
of the herds of cattle they had brought with 
them ; lazy emigre, nobles banished to this 
new world under lett7^es de cachet for interferinof 
with their king's petit amours or taking too 

66 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

deep an interest in poHtics ; yellow sirens from 
San Domingo, speaking a soft, bastard French, 
and looking so languishingly out of the corners 
of their big, melting, black eyes that it was no 
wonder that they led both young and old 
astray, and caused their cold, proud sisters of 
the sang piir many a jealous heart-ache ; staid 
and energetic Germans from the ' German 
Coast,' with flaxen hair and Teutonic names, 
but speaking the purest French, come down to 
the city for supplies ; haughty Castilian sol- 
diers, clad in the bright uniform of the Spanish 
cazadores ; dirty Indians of the Houma and 
Natchez tribes, some free, some slaves ; negroes 
of every shade and hue from dirty white to 
deepest black, clad only in the bragiiet and 
shapeless woolen shirts, as little clothing as 
the somewhat loose ideas of the time and 
country permitted." 

Not the least important of this varied group 
were the Kaintucks, who floated down the 
river in their flats or broad-horns, sold their 
merchandise, and received for it huge rolls of 
money, which they proceeded at once to spend 
with convivial generosity. They felt that there 
were but few persons more lordly than them- 
selves ; few to whom they should doff their 
coonskin caps. With bowie-knives and pistols 

67 



Romance and Realism 

stuck above their leathern breeches, it is small 
wonder that, at their approach, the pompous 
watchmen sank into the depths of their gor- 
geous uniforms, and neither saw nor heard 
any depredations upon the quiet of the hour. 
There was this difference between the Kain- 
tucks and Rex, who now annually enters the 
city — if the keys of the city were not turned 
over to them, they took possession of them 
with perfect good-humor, and held high but 
harmless carnival for a few days. Then, as 
now, the Kentuckian carried with him his 
pluck and energy, his independence — and his 
corkscrew. 

The free speech of the present newspaper 
reporters would not have accorded with the 
rigid customs of those times. It was safer 
then to indulge in glittering generalities, for 
the slightest personalities, the least reflection 
upon one's honor, called forth a flash of the 
rapier, or notes were exchanged, and at day- 
break next morning two quiet-looking carriages 
rolled out to the Oaks, or to some other duel- 
ing-ground near the city. The pen refuses to 
linger upon the tragedies of this subject, for 
there were dark and desperate tragedies that 
chilled the heart ; but as one of God's greatest 
blessings to us in life, some of the most somber 

68 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

subjects are often reHeved with touches of sen- 
timent and humor. 

All the world loves a lover, and all the world 
loves a fiorhter, and the duel often combined 
the two. Innumerable romances are connected 
with this subject. The story is told that a 
beautiful Creole girl loved a noble cavalier, 
but while her heart thrilled t© his every touch 
and word, his ardent devotion was repaid with 
capricious frowns, and to others she gave her 
smiles and favors. One night, at a ball, she 
accidentally learned that he was to fight a 
duel at sunrise the next morning, but not by a 
single word did she betray to him her knowl- 
edge of this, and with the perversity of a 
woman's heart, she yielded not to the plead- 
ings of his softened voice. She was the gay- 
est of the gay until at three o'clock she bade 
him good-bye, the flush still on her cheek, the 
brightness of her eye undimmed — then she 
drew around her trembling shoulders her white 
opera cloak, and waited for the dawn. With 
the first ray of light, her ball dress unchanged, 
she sprang into her carriage and bade her 
coachman drive to the Oaks. Then, sending 
him a short distance away, she stood in the 
shadow of the trees, white and motionless as a 
statue, the beating of her heart almost stilled 

69 



Romance and Realism 

with its agony of suspense. They came, and 
with the first shot her lover fell. She sprang 
forward, and the brilliant luster of her eyes 
held the intensity of a lifetime ; the spirituelle 
pallor of her face, the indescribable grace of 
her swaying body, the small satin slippers 
stained with grass, the silken robe trailing in 
the dew, the bare white arms and shoulders, 
upon which the jewels still gleamed — all 
formed a beautiful picture, in startling contrast 
with her grewsome surroundings. But even the 
endearing tones of her voice seemed to have 
the power of calling back his fleeting spirit, 
for the surgeon discovered a faint throb of life, 
and having him tenderly put into her carriage, 
she carried him to the city and nursed him 
back to life and happiness. The citadel of 
woman's heart may seem impregnable, but 
when the sweet surrender comes at last, it is 
complete and absolute. 

There were many duels in which there was 
no woman at the bottom of the case, nor in 
any way connected with it, though this may 
be doubted by cynical bachelors and other 
people equally agreeable. 

Fortunately, in all cases, the first blood 
drawn was sufficient to appease wounded 
honor. In many cases the seconds arranged 

70 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

matters so that dignity and honor were pro- 
tected without fataHties, and the Sketch- 
book, replete with charming information of 
New Orleans, gives one quaint instance where 
the principal was quite capable of caring for 
his honor and saving his own life. The affair 
was between Mons. Marigny, who belonged 
to one of the oldest families of Louisiana and 
Mr. Humble. Marigny was sent to the Legis- 
lature in 1817, at which time there was a very 
strong political opposition between the Creoles 
and the Americans, which provoked many 
warm debates in the House of Representatives 
and the Senate. Catahoula parish was repre- 
sented by a Georgia giant, an ex-blacksmith 
named Humble, a man of plain ways but pos- 
sessed of many sterling qualities. He was 
remarkable as much for his immense stature 
as for his political diplomacy. It happened 
that an impassioned speech of Mons. Marigny 
was replied to by the Georgian, and the latter 
was so extremely pointed in his allusions that 
his opponent felt aggrieved and sent a chal- 
lenge to mortal combat. The Georgian w^as 
nonplused. 

"I know nothing about this dueling busi- 
ness," said he, "I will not fight him." 

71 



Romance and Realism 

*' You must," said his friend. '' No gentle- 
man can refuse." 

'' I am not a gentleman," replied the honest 
son of Georgia, " I am only a blacksmith." 

" But you will be ruined if you do not 
fight," urged his friends, " you will have the 
choice of weapons, and you can choose in 
such a way as to give yourself an equal chance 
with your adversary." 

The giant asked time in which to consider 
the question, and ended by accepting. He 
sent the following reply to Mons. Marigny : 

" I accept, and in the exercise of my privi- 
lege, I stipulate that the duel shall take place 
in Lake Pontchartrain, in six feet of water, 
sledge hammers to be used as weapons." 

Mons. Marigny was about five feet eight 
inches in height and his adversary was seven. 
The conceit of the Georgian so pleased 
Mons. Marigny, who could appreciate a joke 
as well as perpetrate one, that he declared 
himself satisfied, and the duel did not take 
place. 

The Place D'Armes, now Jackson Square, 
was the commercial and social rendezvous of 
the town. Upon its sward the merriest gather- 
ings were held ; there the itinerant merchant 
vended his wares, affairs of state were cele- 

72 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 






m 







Romance and Realism 

brated, or the gibbet loomed its ghastly frame, 
or criminals were placed alive in coffins, nailed 
up, and slowly sawed in two. It was in front 
of the cathedral, government house and cala- 
boose, and adjoining the Halle de Boucheries, 
or old French Market house. 

The last name applies to the present market 
house, because it is on the site of the first one 
used in New Orleans by the French. For 
years it has been one of the most charming 
attractions of New Orleans, with its pictur- 
esque costumes and booths, its babel of 
languages, its cafe noir, its Indians and quad- 
roons, its varied nationalities and novel com- 
modities. All this is gradually disappearing 
before the possession of the thrifty, practical 
American, who wears plain clothes and looks 
like any other plain man, talks plain English, 
and sells plain market articles, just as you 
would find them in any other plain American 
markets. It is somewhat of a shock to know 
that a new market house, with all modern im- 
provements, is planned for the old site. One 
feels tempted to protest against such an inno- 
vation, and to go out into the highways and 
hedges and engage a few Indians and foreign- 
ers to stay a little longer with their shrill but 
delightful jargon and their quaint wares. 

74 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

It Is in just such places as the old French 
Market that we would, if possible, stay the 
foot of progress. To improve and modernize 
it is like taking one of the pictures of the old 
masters and freshening it up with a little new 
paint. 

The Cathedral is perhaps dearer to the New 
Orleans people than any other building, and 
inseparably connected with the history of the 
place. 

The present building stands on the same site 
where several others have been burned, or 
destroyed by storm — the first house having 
been a simple shed, when the population was 
not more than two hundred. The present 
building was erected in 1792 by one of the 
most remarkable characters who ever lived in 
New Orleans, Don Andres Almonaster-y- 
Roxas. His body rests under the altar, a 
marble slab is inscribed to his memory, and 
there every Saturday mass is said for the re- 
pose of his soul. Besides building the Ca- 
thedral, he founded the St. Charles Hospital 
and its chapel, the chapel of the Lazarists, the 
chapel of the Ursulines Convent, a hospital 
for lepers, schools for little children, the Pres- 
bytery of the Cathedral, and many other chari- 
table institutions. 

75 



Romance and Realism 

His daughter, the Baroness Pontalba, was 
scarcely less conspicuous in the history of New 
Orleans. Her wealth, style of living and life 
sounds like a leaf from fairy land. When she 
went to Paris with her husband she bougrht the 
beautiful palace containing four hundred rooms, 
built by Louis XIV for the Due du Maine, but 
she afterward built a smaller but just as 
magnificent palace for herself. She and her 
father-in-law, Baron Pontalba, disagreed pain- 
fully, and one morning they were found in his 
library, he quite dead, and her body with many 
bullet wounds in it. She was at first supposed to 
be lifeless, but lived for many years afterward. 
The mystery of the scene was never explained. 

The picturesque delights of plantation and 
town life can be appreciated by giving two 
scenes from Miss Grace King's charming 
work, " New Orleans, the Place and the 
People." 

" It certainly was worth traveling fifty miles 
to hear Mademoiselle Macarty described by 
the nonagenarian historian Gayarre and see 
one of her visits to his grandmother, Madame 
de Bore, acted. Her carriage, a curiosity in 
the colony, was called a chaise ; it was like a 
modern coupe, but smaller, with sides and 
front of glass. There was no coachman. A 

76 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

postilHon rode one of the spirited horses, a 
Httle black rascal of a postillion, who always 
rode so fast and so wildly that his tiny cape 
stood straight out behind him like wings. 
When in a cloud of dust the vehicle turned 
into the Pecan avenue, the little darkies sta- 
tioned there would shriek out in shrill excite- 
ment to get the announcement to the great 
gates ahead of the horses, ' Mam'selle Ma- 
carty a pe vini,' and there would be a rush in- 
side to throw the gates open in time. And 
his cape flying more wildly than ever, his 
elbows beating the air more furiously, the 
postillion would gallop his horses in a sweep- 
ing circle through the great courtyard, and 
bring them panting to a brilliant finale before 
the carriage steps. Mons. de Bore would be 
standing there with his lowest bow to open the 
carriage door and hand the fair one out, and 
lead her at arms' length with stately minuet 
step up the broad brick stairs and through the 
hall to the door of the salon, where they 
would face each other, and he would again 
bow and she would drop a curtesy into the 
very hem of her gown — her Louis XIV gown — 
for from head to foot she always dressed in an 
exact copy of the costume of Madame de 
Maintenon ; that is, all to her arms, which 

77 



Romance and Realism 

were in Mademoiselle Macarty's youth so ex- 
tremely beautiful that she never overcame the 
habit, even in extreme cold weather and old 
age, of exhibiting them bare to the shoulders. 
The mystery why with her great wealth and 
her great beauty she had never married re- 
mained a vivid one — even when old age had 
effaced every thing except the fame of her ra- 
diant youth." 

Not less attractive was Miss King's picture 
of town life : '' The early rising and cup of 
coffee ; the great court yard stretching open 
for all the breezes and all the world that chose 
to enter ; the figs, pomegranates, bananas, 
crape myrtles, and oleanders glittering in the 
dew ; the calls in the street, musical negro 
cries heralding vegetables, fruits, and sweets ; 
* Belles des figues ! ' ' Tout chauds ! Tout 
chauds ! ' ' Barataria ! Barataria ! ' ' Confitures 
coco ! ' ' Pralines Pistache ! ' ' Pralines Pecanes ! ' 
the family marchande coming into the court- 
yard swaying her body on her hips to balance 
the basket on her head, sitting on the steps to 
give the morning news to the family sitting 
around the breakfast table on the gallery ; the 
dining-room on the ;rj de chaitssce and opening 
into the street for all passers by to see, if they 
would, the great family board (for there were 

78 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

no small families in the ancient regime) and 
the pompous butler, and the assistant ' gardi- 
enne ' in bright head handkerchief, gold-hoop 
earrings, white fichu and gay flowered gowns ! " 

Even the pralines sold on the street have a 
history. Made into large disks of brown sugar, 
pecans, cocoanuts or peanuts, they are delicious. 
Many dyspeptics have been tempted and 
tempted again, until the memory of the dainty 
confections became one of painful pleasure. 

It is said that a nobleman banished from 
France landed in New Orleans, dependent 
alone upon his wits, but these did not fail him. 
He bought a few pounds of sugar and some 
pecans, and established the first of those pop- 
ular stands now seen on so many street corners 
of the city. He had a wonderful dog who ex- 
amined the picayunes that were given in and 
threw out those that were counterfeit, and an 
equally wonderful monkey whose tricks were 
not less attractive. Crowds flocked to his 
stand, and his empty coffers were soon filled. 
In the day time he was the street merchant, 
but in the evening he was the courtly noble- 
man, and, donning his costume de ri^uer, he 
was welcomed into the most elegant homes, 
and his brilliant bon mots quoted every-where. 
With his pralines he amassed a fortune. A 

79 



Romance and Realism 

sudden change in the pohtical situation of 
France- — for France sometimes has these httle 
changes — restored to him his title and vast 
estates. 

New Orleans is a city of magnificent dis- 
tances. It is 187 square miles or 119,680 
acres, but not over one-tenth of this is inhab- 
ited. The reason that the city limits are so 
immense is that it is necessary to have this 
country under municipal law for drainage. The 
geographical center of the city is a dense 
swamp, but, when a picture of it was taken and 
sent to a northern magazine as the heart of 
the city, the editors declined to accept it, say- 
ing that the public would not believe such 
representation to be true. 

There are two seasons in New Orleans pe- 
culiar to the place : Mardi Gras is a season of 
unbounded revelry and joy, but All Saints 
Day — les jours des morts — is consecrated to 
the dead. 

In the early days of the colony many of the 
young people were sent to Paris to be edu- 
cated, and from that place, in 1827, was in- 
troduced the custom of celebrating Mardi 
Gras. It seemed peculiarly appropriate that 
Louisiana should celebrate Mardi Gras, as 
Iberville and Bienville landed in Louisiana on 

80 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

Mardi Gras Day. The first floats used in 
such celebrations originated in Mobile in 1831 
by the Cowbellians, and floats were not used 
in New Orleans until 1857. Rex did not enter 
the city until 1872, when he came attended by 
a body guard of xA.rabs. 

It was on the occasion of the visit of the 
Grand Duke Alexis, and since that time he has 
come regularly. To Rex the keys of the city 
are given, and all the people are his most loyal 
subjects until the last notes of the carnival die 
aw^ay with the dawn of Ash Wednesday, when 
he mysteriously disappears until the next 
year's carnival. Mardi Gras is one of the 
many joyous occasions of New Orleans, for 
the Frenchman believes that this life is worth 
living, and fails to adopt the Scotchman's stern 
creed : " You'll be damned if you do, and 
you'll be damned if you don't." 

There are several organizations devoted to 
Mardi Gras, the oldest being the Mistick 
Krewe, Twelfth Night Revelers, Knights of 
Momus, etc. During the year they are busy 
for the next celebration, but all in the pro- 
foundest secrecy. To appreciate the splendor 
of Mardi Gras, it must be seen. It is simply 
magnificent tableaux representing the finest 
works of prose and poetry : Lallah Rookh, 

81 



Romance and Realism 

Mythology, Spenser's Fairie Queen, Homer's 
Tale of Troy, the Romance of Mexico, Mother 
Goose's Tea Party, the Birds of Audubon, and 
too many others to mention. 

On All-saints Day the streets, carriages, 
street cars, and every conceivable vehicle, seem 
to be moving flower gardens. Every one is 
laden with flowers — dried immortelles made 
of curled, glazed, white, black and purple pa- 
per, fragrant flowers covered with sparkling 
dew, anchors, hearts, crosses and wreaths — all 
wending their way to the city of the dead. 
There, for days previous, the scene has been a 
busy one. On account of the marshy nature 
of the soil — water being very near the sur- 
face — the dead are generally buried above 
ground in receiving vaults, one above the 
other. The lots, however, are cleaned of every 
withered leaf and twig ; each lot has its work- 
ers, and outside the city gates the scene is a 
busy one. There are venders of sand, grass, 
garden tools, even coffee booths — every thing 
that could be needed by the workers. 

At midnight it is said the dead arise, and 
shaking off the cerements of the grave, greet 
each other and are free until the dawn. Then, 
in their narrow homes, they wait for their loved 
ones, for they know that they will come laden 

82 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

with flowers. If in the rush and necessities 
of life during the past year they may at times 
have been forgotten, it will not be so to-day, 
for the day is theirs. Loving tears will be 
eiven to them, and the tender murmured words 
will speak only of their virtues, for their faults 
will be forgotten. And when the shadows of 
evening come they will be left covered with 
beautiful flowers and tenderest remembrance. 
At each gate a nun stands with orphans be- 
side her, and their appealing baskets are filled 
with coins by the passing crowd. 

If New Orleans is one of the gayest of all 
cities, it is also one of the most devout. The 
Ursuline Convent, established in 1727 by Louis 
XV, is the oldest building in the Mississippi 
valley, and the oldest convent in the United 
States. Of the rioid order of the Discalced 
Carmelites there are only four in the United 
States, one being in New Orleans. When a 
nun enters this order she is buried to the 
world, and her face is never seen again save 
by her sisters in prayer. Eight hours of the 
day are given to the church service, and their 
fast is only lightly broken from the 14th of 
September until Easter. Their bare cells con- 
tain only a chair, a table, and a bed made by 
resting two planks on rude benches ; these 



Romance and Realism 

planks have a little straw on them, and their 
only covering is a sheet of serge. They flag- 
ellate their tender bodies until the blood some- 
times falls. For permission to have a drink 
of water they must ask the mother superior, 
and the granting of this request is often post- 
poned if the mother thinks patience can stand 
self-denial a little longer. At night their sup- 
per is two ounces of bread measured out to 
each — the weight of four soda crackers — with 
a little tea or wine. They desire to suffer as 
Jesus suffered in the world, and by their pray- 
ers and penance these lovely, living saints en- 
deavor, in a measure, to expiate the sins of the 
world. 

Where the famous quadroon balls were given 
there is now a colored convent. The subject 
of the quadroons is one of the saddest of all 
the minor chords of love and suffering in the 
history of New Orleans. These beautiful 
women, with their liquid dark eyes, their rich 
complexions tinged with brilliant color, their 
graceful figures, gleaming jewels and elegant 
dresses, won the devotion of ardent admirers 
and wrecked the happiness of many homes. 
But a change came over the spirit of the 
times. The quadroon balls ceased to exist, 
but the beautiful women still lived, knowing 

84 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

that their white blood lifted them far above the 
negro circles, and that their negro blood closed 
against them the social circles of irreproach- 
able standing. In anguish of spirit they felt 
that in all the wide world there was no resting 
place for their weary feet. But the church, 
with divine compassion, forgave them for a sin 
that was not theirs, and enfolding many of 
these sinless souls of a sinful love in her pro- 
tecting arms, they found purity, usefulness and 
happiness in a convent. 

Where music and dancing once sounded, 
there is now the noiseless footstep of the nun ; 
where the beautiful, restless eyes once told 
of weary hearts, there is now the benediction 
of peace ; and where the siren's voice once 
lured to destruction, the nun's murmured prayer 
lifts the struggling soul heavenward. 

New Orleans also has its ghost stories, 
especially that of the Haunted Exchange. 
This house was once the scene of hospitable 
elegance, its wealthy mistress a leader in 
every public enterprise. For years, however, 
she secretly treated her slaves with the utmost 
cruelty. So little was any thing of this kind 
tolerated by the people, that, when it was dis- 
covered, an indignant mob rushed to the 
house, threw the costly ornaments into the 

S5 



Romance and Realism 

street, and only the dismantled walls were left 
standing. The terrified mistress escaped by 
a back street, where a carriage was w^aiting, 
and fled to France, from which place she 
never dared to return. 

The house is still pointed out to strangers, 
and, in low tones and with many significant 
glances, the story is told that no one who has 
ever lived there has prospered since that night 
of righteous indignation. The writer, how- 
ever, has recently visited the place, and found 
the occupants looking like people who eat and 
sleep with good average comfort. Neither 
did they seem disposed to unfold any tales 
that would harrow the soul and make " each 
particular hair to stand on end." 

History opens her pages of interest to us, 
but it is not more charming than the object 
lessons of the past received from varied archi- 
tecture, monuments, and names of streets. 
Even the epitaphs of the cemeteries speak in 
silent but eloquent language of the great ones 
of church and state, or the lowly ones in their 
humble walks of life who have helped to make 
the history of the place ; its varied language 
tells of the successive possession of French, 
Spanish and American, or the tie of love 
between master and slave. Nothing could be 

2>6 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

more simple and touching than an epitaph 
in Girod Cemetery: "Mammy, aged 84; 
a faithful servant. She lived and died a 
christian." 

After the disastrous fires of 1780 and 1794, 
the temporary French frame houses were 
superseded by the substantial Spanish houses 
with their tiled roofs, their quaint balconies 
jutting far over the streets to be socially near 
their neighbors across the way, their great 
open courts, odd windows, and all that goes 
to make the picturesque. 

In his book, " The Manhattaner in New Or- 
leans," Oakey Hall was most enthusiastic over 
the names of the streets in New Orleans, and 
pronounced them more beautiful than those of 
any other city in the Union. They mark the pro- 
gress of the city step by step. Ursuline tells us 
of the arrival of the good nuns in 1727, the first 
real educators of the city ; Hospital street, 
the founding of the hospital ; the Napoleonic 
craze was marked by the names of a number 
of streets — Napoleon avenue, Jena, Auster- 
litz, and a number of others. In their love 
for the classics, any number of Greek and 
Latin names were adopted. They captured 
all the Muses and Graces, but their names 
are so filtrated through French pronunciation 

87 



Romance and Realism 

that Parnassus itself could scarcely recognize 
its representatives. 

The monuments of the city are not all cast 
in bronze and marble in cold commemora- 
tion of the dead, but many of them are the 
homes for the living, the sick, and suffering; 
or they open the halls of knowledge to the 
struggling masses, and give them footholds 
into higher walks of life. And around some 
of these buildings are woven such stories of 
romance that we forget the realism of their 
brick and mortar, awd through and through 
they become to us palaces beautiful. 

To John McDonogh the public schools owe 
untold gratitude, and yet his life was one of 
bitter disappointment, and his days were spent 
in sorrow and isolation. When a young man, 
he came from Baltimore to New Orleans, and 
his elegant bachelor home was the center of 
gayety and refinement. He loved and was 
beloved by a beautiful accomplished girl, but 
she was a Roman Catholic and he was a 
Protestant, and her parents were unyielding 
in their opposition. She joined the Ursuline 
nuns, and he closed his beautiful home and 
became a business automaton. There was 
only one bright spot to him in each year as 
it passed — when she became Mother Superior 

88 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

of the Convent, he with others was allowed 
on New Year's Day a brief, ceremonious call. 
So entirely did he deny himself all the luxuries 
of life that he was often slightingly mentioned 
as a miser. 

But his soul was not slumbering, for when 
it winged its flight from the worn-out, dis- 
crepit, and lifeless body, a will was found with 
tenderest provision for the poor and needy. 
His vast wealth was divided between the 
schools of Baltimore and New Orleans, and a 
pathetic clause in his will asked that little chil- 
dren would come and lay flowers on his grave 
once a year. 

Judah Touro also loved and was beloved, 
but the objection of her family was insur- 
mountable. He buried his broken heart in 
a life of active business and broad charity. 
To himself he denied every luxury, but to 
the needy his purse was open. For the 
Dispersed of Judah he built a magnificent 
synagogue, the ground alone costing $60,000. 
The Touro Infirmary cost $40,000; he gave 
$20,000 to the Bunker Hill monument, $40,000 
to the Jewish Cemetery, at Newport, Rhode 
Island, and any number of other charities. 

Every city has its examples of transition from 
poverty to wealth, or from wealth to poverty, 

89 



Romance and Realism 

but for these changes of fortune New Orleans 
seemed to have an underlying current of sen- 
timent peculiarly her own. 

Julian Poydras commenced his career in 
New Orleans with a pack on his back, yet in 
a few years he entertained at his home, with 
royal magnificence, Louis Phillippe, Duke of 
Orleans, and his party, and it is said he fur- 
nished the exiled prince with money. At his 
death he left twelve hundred slaves, with in- 
structions that they should be freed — this, 
unfortunately, however, was never done. He 
founded the Poydras Asylum, a college for 
indigent orphans, and gave innumerable other 
charities. To several parishes he bequeathed 
$30,000, the interest of which was to be given 
each year to the dowerless young girls who 
married during the year. Mr. Poydras was 
never married, but who can tell what tender 
memory may have dwelt in the heart that re- 
ceived this poetic inspiration to give to others 
that sweetest of all blessings — dearer than 
fame, dearer than wealth — domestic happiness. 

In New Orleans was erected the first statue 
in the United States to a woman — and that 
woman was simply a washerwoman, a dairy 
woman and baker — who drove her own cart 
and delivered her goods at back doors, and 

90 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 



cr 

p 
c 




Romance and Realism 

could neither read nor write ; but when she 
died, the highest dignitaries of the city honored 
her memory, and her statue in its homely at- 
tire, was placed in front of one of the orphan 
asylums that she had befriended. 

The orphans of the city were in great need, 
and in her cart she gathered every-where food 
and old clothes for them, and she gave to them 
with lavish generosity from her small earnings ; 
but the more she gave the more fortune seemed 
to smile on her, until her bakeries grew from 
small beginnings to immense profitable estab- 
lishments, and all the orphans of the city con- 
sidered her their best friend. 

There are several varieties of that being 
poetically described by Rudyard Kipling, as 
"A rag, a bone, and a hank of hair." Some 
are pieces of delicate, beautiful bric-a-brac 
intended only for parlor ornament ; some are 
utterly without ornament, but with hearts that 
radiate sunshine all about them, and with 
strong shoulders that not only bear their own 
burdens, but those of the helpless and dependent. 
Such a woman was Margaret Haughery, and 
there is no name enshrined with more rever- 
ence and respect in the hearts of New Orleans 
people than that of this lowly but wonderful 
philanthropist. 

92 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

It is impossible to mention all the charming 
incidents of New Orleans in one chapter, nor 
to dwell on its many elegant clubs, its regattas, 
its sports, its universities, libraries, public 
buildings, nor its many wonderful characters. 
It was here that Adah Isaacs Menken com- 
menced her brilliant checkered career ; here 
that Paul Morphy lived, the champion chess 
player of the world, who received in London, 
Paris and elsewhere royal ovations ; and in 
New Orleans was commenced the wonderful 
law suit of Myra Clark Gaines, which dragged 
its slow length along for many years. 

To history is left the details of the exultant 
welcome given to the hero of Chalmette, and 
the despair and disorder of New Orleans when 
in 1862 Farragut entered it. A city of burn- 
ing cotton, its fine docks at Algiers destroyed, 
its gutters running with molasses, its stores 
opened for the people to help themselves, in 
order that such supplies should not fall into the 
hands of the enemy. Nor shall we dwell on 
that period after the war when the noble state 
of Louisiana was given over to the rule of the 
carpet-bagger and the negro — when the state 
hall of the old St. Louis Hotel that had 
echoed to the silver-tongued eloquence of 
refinement and culture resounded to corn-field 

93 



Romance and Realism 

lung power, of which the following is a 
sample: ''Dat de gen'lm from de parish of 
St. Ouelquechose was developing assurtions 
and expurgating ratiocinations clean agin de 
fust principles of law and equity." 

94 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 



CHAPTER V. 

BEAUVOIR AND THE MYSTERIOUS MUSIC OF THE 

SEA. 

The sea-coast has felt each heart-throb of 
the nation's history. She has welcomed to 
her shore the heroes of her own and other 
lands. In the depths of her solitude, brave 
men have dreamed of the future greatness of 
this country, and nature has smiled upon their 
budding hopes, or wept with them over the 
sere and yellow leaf of their failures and dis- 
appointments. Nature is a confidante who 
never betrays the most exquisite suffering, 
who never jars us by idle words, but in her 
own sweet, silent way uplifts, soothes, and 
comforts. 

It is here that the rippling waters of the 
gulf bring the languor of the tropics to meet 
the thrifty energy of the North, and here the 
refugees from San Domingo, France, and all 
the points of the earth have wept over a past 
that could not be recalled, or found oblivion 
of their troubles in renewed prosperity and 
happiness. Changing with each season, nature 

95 



Romance and Realism 




« 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

here is always beautiful — as beautiful now as 
when, two hundred years ago, La Salle took 
possession of the lands of Louisiana and the 
g-reat river in the name of his kinp;, and the 
cathedral bells of Canada rang out exultant 
over the fame of his great discovery — bells, 
however, that soon tolled the news of his death 
by the assassin's blow. His only heritage of 
the vast area that he had discovered was six 
feet of ground as a resting-place ; the only 
earthly possession that the greatest can claim 
after life's fitful fever is over. The name oi 
the fort of Croeve Coeur testified that when 
he reached the last days of his long and noble 
life, he was broken-hearted. 

It was here that the youthful Bienville, the 
father of Louisiana, brought a statesmanship 
that has not since been excelled, and that 
taught him to deal successfully with the In- 
dians. Here he fought his battles of victory 
and defeat, and bore all the hardships of pio- 
neer life, until, calumniated by his rivals, he 
became broken-spirited and discouraged. In 
his old age, he turned his reluctant steps to 
France, but left his heart and dearest hopes 
with the land of his adoption. 

The end of life has often brought to the 

97 



Romance and Realism 

great hearts of the earth misconstruction and 
sorrow. 

It has not been many years since these sad 
sea waves sang the requiem of Southern woe, 
and soothed the last days of a man who em- 
bodied the rise and fall of Confederate hopes — 
Jefferson Davis. 

Beauvoir, with its beautiful view of the sea, 
is one of the favorite spots of interest to both 
northern and southern tourists. There are 
some visitors to Beauvoir frivolous and indif- 
ferent, but before the silent grandeur of the 
place the light laughter and jesting words are 
hushed. There is an indescribable influence in 
the stately oaks with their mournful swaying 
gray moss, the broad verandas with their 
fluted columns, the silence of the deserted 
rooms, the white draperies that enwrap furni- 
niture and bric-a-brac and stand around like 
ghostly phantoms, the books that seem to be 
falling from the shelves from disuse and old 
age, the empty chair in which Mr. Davis thought 
and planned his book, "The Rise and Fall of 
the Confederate Government," the floating 
cobwebs, the crumbling plastering and the 
tangled flower beds and undergrowth. — These 
teach earth's inexorable law that all things ani- 
mate and inanimate, exalted and humble, must 

98 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

yield to destruction and oblivion. There is 
something in the sorrows of a great man which 
appeals to the latent nobility of every heart, 
and in all ages the chivalry of the victor to the 
vanquished has met with the plaudits of the 
earth, but it is not the object of this little book 
to enter into the rights and wrongs of the civil 
war, for Time's obliterating touch is rapidly re- 
moving the scars of that unfortunate period. 

Even now, in a distressed island, the honor 
of the United States is jealously guarded by 
an ex-Confederate General. 

With his own hands he has placed the old 
flag above his couch. At night his last glance 
rests upon it as dreams of home and native 
land succeed the anxious responsibilities of the 
day ; and when morning comes, his first waking 
glance dwells upon its brilliant folds, and his 
devotion to it can not be questioned. 

In this crisis of his country's history, the 
great, loyal heart of Fitzhugh Lee knows no 
sectional lines of North and South, but he does 
know that a Solid South is ready to rise in de- 
fense of the nation's honor. 

It had been far better for the world from the 
beginning, however, had the gates of Janus 
never unclosed, for when war descends, even 
upon the most civilized nations, it means deso- 

99 



Romance and Realism 

lation, pain and anguish, and the trail of the 
serpent is over it all. 

Soon after the late war, Mrs. Sarah A. Dorsey 
welcomed to her home, Beauvoir, the Confed- 
erate President and his family. 

She was a woman of fine mind and gener- 
ous impulses. She was not only a good histo- 
rian, but a fine linguist. Brilliant and restless, 
she had felt an infinite longing all her life for 
something higher and better than the ordinary 
routine of life, and in making her home the 
refuge for a broken heart, she found the peace 
of a mission fulfilled. 

Her friendship for Mrs. Davis had begun in 
their schooldays, and alternately they acted as 
amanuensis for Mr. Davis in preparing the 
first volume of his book. 

As the home of Mr. Davis, Beauvoir bes^ 
came the Mecca of the South and a spot of j 
greatest interest to the North. Visitors from| 
all sections of the United States were received 
with a simple hospitality that befitted his for- 
tunes, and the refined, cultivated atmosphere 
of his home gave to it an indescribable charm. 
It was most natural that Mr. Davis's friends 
should be enthusiastic over him, but the fol- 
lowing sketch of him has been given by the 

TOO 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

historian, Mr. James Redpath, a Hfelong poHti- 
cal opponent : 

'' He seemed the ideal embodiment of 
sweetness and light. I never heard him 
speak an unkind word of any man. His man- 
ner could best be described as gracious, so 
exquisitely refined, so courtly, yet heart-warm. 
The dignity of most of our public men reminds 
one of the hod-carrier's 'store suit.' Mr. 
Davis's dignity was as natural and charming 
as the perfume of the rose — the fitting ex- 
pression of a serene, benign, and comely moral 
nature." 

One rare characteristic he possessed, which 
should have recommended him to his stronorest 
opponents : it is said of him that " he was an 
orator who gave close attention to the neces- 
sity of stopping when he was done." Many 
brilliant men, from time immemorial, have 
been unable to stop when they were done, 
whether it was a flight of oratory, a social call, 
or any of those pleasant scenes in life when a 
little would be most bright and restful, and a 
little too much would be most witless and bur- 
densome. 

The life of Mr. Davis was one of strange 
and romantic vicissitudes. At West Point, he 
was the classmate of R. E. Lee, and when the 

lOI 



Romance and Realism 

Black Hawk was begun, it is said that at Fort 
Snelling he administered to Abraham Lincoln 
his first oath of allegiance to the United 
States. In that wild frontier life, these two 
young men, who were afterward to figure so 
conspicuously in the history of their country, 
learned the art of Indian warfare, and saw an 
eagle's feather added to a warrior's head-dress 
for each scalp he took. There they went to 
the gumbo balls of Wisconsin, where a bowl 
of gumbo and an ample slice of bread consti- 
tuted the refreshments, and an old-fashioned 
fiddle furnished the music, and gave more 
pleasure than is often given now by a full or- 
chestra to tired revelers. 

The tragic death of Mr. Lincoln was a great 
misfortune to the South. Genial and kind- 
hearted, he had shown a desire, after the sur- 
render, to be just to that section of country. 
The man who had so long dwelt in the shadow 
of stage tragedy sent a thrill of horror through 
the North and South by his last acting. 

Both Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Davis were 
social and possessed a keen sense of humor, 
and to Mr. Davis especially this was a buoy- 
ant comfort in the last scenes of his life. 

An appeal to the humorous side of his 
nature was almost irresistible, as instanced by 

I02 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

the following note received during one of the 
darkest periods of the war : 

Dear J/r. Preside^it : — I want you to let 
Jeems C. of Company Oneth, South Carolina 
Regiment, come home and get married. Jeems 
is willin', I is willin', his mammy says she is 
willin', but Jeems' Captain he aint willin'. 
Now, when we are all willin' cep'n Jeems' 
Captain, I think you might let up and let 
Jeems come. I'll make him go straight back 
when he's done got married and fight just as 
hard as ever. 

Your affectionate friend, etc. 

Mrs. Davis tells us, in her Memoirs of Mr. 
Davis, that he could not refuse this earnest 
request from an '' affectionate friend." 

Much has been said of the reckless extrava- 
gance of Southern people, but perhaps this 
extravagance reached its height during the 
war. While the thrifty New Englander was 
giving $5.00 an ounce for quinine, the spend- 
thrift Southerner, in 1865, did not hesitate 
(when he could get it) to pay ;f 1,700.00 an 
ounce. He gave from $125.00 to $150.00 for 
a pair of shoes, $300.00 for a barrel of flour, 
$3,000.00 for a plain suit of clothes, and 

103 



Romance and Realism 

$125.00 for a penknife. A dinner for one man 
sometimes cost $500.00 ; but, then, who has 
not heard of the Southern tables laden with 
every delicacy that could be desired? At 
this time the people absolutely seemed to fail 
to appreciate the value of their money, and 
sometimes threw it away or burned it. The 
unique fashions also have never been dupli- 
cated before or since. Ladies adopted the 
custom of wearing shoes made from old sails 
and carpets ; they used parched sweet pota- 
toes, corn or okra for coffee ; homespun 
dresses had never been at such a premium 
since pioneer days, and silks and velvets were 
entirely out of style. In fact the description 
of the eccentric fashions of that time could 
easily fill a large and interesting volume. 
Strangely enough for a fashion book, however, 
it would be one that could only be read 'twixt 
a smile and a tear. 

When the Liberty Bell was taken from 
Philadelphia to New Orleans, Mr. Davis met 
it at Biloxi, January 26, 1885. The committee 
invited him most cordially to go with them to 
New Orleans, and in response to a speech of 
welcome Mr. Davis spoke with an eloquence 
that thrilled his hearers. His little grand- 

104 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

daughter patted the bell with her tiny hands 
and lisped, '' God bless the dear old bell." 

Mr. Davis died in New Orleans on the 6th 
of December, 1889. 

One by one, nearly all of the leaders of the 
North and the South have answered to the 
last call and sleep in their last camping ground. 
Perhaps no one has versed these thoughts 
more beautifully than Mrs. Margaret Hunt 
Brisbane : 

"Sleep, brothers, sleep! 

Your fame will keep 
As fresh and pure as the winds that sweep 

O'er ferny fell and fen ; 
In whiter tents than we ever knew, 
In peace eternal, grand and true, 
To-day the fallen gray and blue 

Are camped with God." 

Very near Beauvoir is the Sea Shore Camp 
Ground of the Methodist Episcopal Church. 
It belongs to the New Orleans, Mobile and 
Sea Shore District Conference. It is quite a 
charming place, and has a frontage of 1,400 
feet and is two miles deep. This camp ground 
proves that the good old customs are not all 
obsolete, and who knows but that these soul- 
stirring Methodist hymns, as they are carried 
far out over the gulf in wave after wave of 

105 



Romance and Realism 

sound, are not caught beneath the water and 
given back to us in that strange, mysterious 
music of the sea ? Some of the old negroes 
tell that in that long ago when their sea-shore 
revivals were held, many of their members 
"came through" with religious ecstacy, and 
rushing into the sea believed it to be the river 
Jordan washing away their sins. They say 
that the sea imprisoned these wild shouts and 
singing, and that the storms free these sounds 
and they come back to us in strange, fitful 
notes. 

When we reach the poetic subject of the 
mysterious music of the gulf, Science bends 
her knitted brows in thought, and a wild, sweet 
range is given to the touch of romance. Some 
of the legends regarding this music are given 
in the following poem, written by Mrs. Laura 
F. Hinsdale : 

"There is a time when summer stars are glowing, 

And night is fair along the Southern shore, 
The sailor resting when the tide is flowing 

Hears somewhere near below his waiting oar 
A haunting tone, now vanishing, now calling, 

Now lost, now luring like some elfin air; 
In murmurous music fathoms downward falling, 

It seems a dream of song imprisoned there. 

io6 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

The legend tells a phantom ship is beating 

On yonder bar, a wanderer evermore, 
Its rhythmic music, evanescent, fleeting, 

Stirs the lagoon and echoes on the shore. 
O ! phantom ship, dost near that port Elysian 

Where radiant rainbow colors ever play ? 
Shall hope's mirage return a blessed vision. 

And canst thou find a joy of yesterday ? 

The legend tells of a pale horseman fleeing 

Whose steed the gnomes with metals strange have shod, 
Who on and on, a distant summit seeing. 

His way pursues in ocean paths untrod. 
His spectral hoofs by the evangel bidden 

In far Carillons beat in measure low. 
Elusive tone !- dost near where that is hidden 

Which made the music of the long ago ? 

The legend tells of sirens of the ocean 

That wander, singing, where the sea palms rise. 
And through the songs intense and measured motion 

I seem to hear their soft imprisoned sighs. 
They lure me like the spell of a magician — 

Once more I see the palaces of Spain, 
I feel the kindling thrill of young ambition — 

The tide sweeps on, the song is lost again. 

The legend tells of vocal sea sands sifting. 

With vibrant forces, resonant and strong. 
And on the surging sand-dunes fretting, drifting. 

Like broken hearts that hide their grief in song. 
Tell me, white atoms, in your sad oblation 

Of drift that lies so deep that none may scan. 
Is it forgotten in God's great creation 

Who formed the fleeting hour-glass life of man ? 

107 



Romance and Realism 

The legend tells of those who long have slumbered, 

A forest race too valorous to flee, 
Who when in battle by their foes outnumbered 

With clasping hands came singing to the sea. 
The ocean drew them to her hidden keeping. 

The stars watched o'er them in the deep above — 
Their death lingers, but the tones of weeping 

Tell the eternity of human love." 

This last verse embodies the sweetest, sad- 
dest, and most generally accepted of all the 
legends. This music is heard more distinctly 
at Pascagoula than any other point on the 
coast. The sound is like that of an Eolian 
harp when stirred by a soft, gentle wind. 
This is the pathetic story of the Pascagoula 
tribe : 

It was one of the most powerful on the sea- 
coast, and ruled over what is now Pascagoula, 
Scranton, and Moss Point. Olustee, the son 
of the chief, while hunting, met Miona, the 
daughter of a neighboring chief, and together 
they learned the sweet old story. Olustee 
begged that she would come to his people and 
be the light of his wigwam, but with tears she 
told him that her father had pledged her to the 
fierce Otanga, the chief of the Biloxis. Her 
love for Olustee, however, proved to be greater 
than her fear of her father, and, yielding to his 
entreaties, she fled with him to Pascagoula. 

io8 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

Coosa, his father, the great chief, was charmed 
with her beauty, sweetness, and grace, and 
the next day, 'midst the rejoicing of the tribe, 
the nuptials were to take place. The wrathful 
Otanea heard of the flight of his bride, and 
joining her father, they fell that night upon 
the sleeping tribe of the Pascagoulas. Bravely 
the latter fought, but Olustee, seeing that his 
tribe was about to be conquered, begged that 
they would deliver him to the enemy, as he 
had been the cause of strife, but Miona said : 

" Otanga wants but me, 
And, as this bloody war was for my sake. 
Give me to him, and he will leave thee free." 

The brave warriors swore, however, that 
they would either save their chieftain and his 
bride or perish with them in the sea ; that their 
tribe should never be in subjection to the hated 
Biloxians. And so, when all hope was lost, 
squaws and children led the way, the braves 
followed with chants of victory, and all plunged 
into the sea. The last victims, after a tender 
embrace, being Olustee and the beautiful 
Miona. Together they went to the Happy 
Hunting Grounds. 

Bienville heard this music of the sea, and 
records it in his narrative ; but neither poetry 

109 



Romance and Realism 

nor science has yet discovered the Rosetta 
stone by which the mystery can be solved. 
In the Popular Science Monthly (April, 1890), 
Mr. Chas. E. Chidsey has an article on the 
mysterious music of Pascagoula. He ad- 
vances the theory of Darwin and Charles 
Kingsley as to similar music heard on the 
southern coast of France. In his '' Descent 
of Man," Darwin says: "The last point 
which need be noticed is that fishes are known 
to make various noises, some of which are de- 
scribed as musical. Dr. Dufosse, who has 
especially attended to this subject, says that 
the sounds are voluntarily produced in several 
ways by different fishes; by the friction of the 
pharyngeal bones ; by the vibration of certain 
muscles attached to the swim bladder, which 
serves as a resounding board, and by the vi- 
bration of the intrinsic muscles of the swim 
bladder. By this latter means, the Trigla 
produces pure and long drawn sounds, which 
range over nearly an octave. But the most 
interesting case for us is that of two species 
of Ophidium, in which the males alone are 
provided with a sound-producing apparatus, 
consisting of small, movable bones with proper 
muscles in connection with the swim bladder. 
The drumming of the Unbrinas in the Euro- 

1 10 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

pean seas is said to be audible from a depth 
of twenty fathoms, and the fishermen of Ro- 
chelle assert that the males alone make the 
noise during spawning time, and that it is pos- 
sible, by imitating it, to take them without 
bait." Prof. G. Brown Goode, in his "Amer- 
can Fishes," mentions several species to which 
the name "drum" has been given, because of 
their ability to produce sound. 

But who would believe that this dream of 
song comes from a drum or any other kind of 
fish, when we can enter the vast realms of fancy 
and learn that it is sound from a phantom ship, 
or the echo from the spectral hoofs of the pale 
horseman's steed as he pursues the oceans 
paths, or that it is the siren's alluring voice 
or imprisoned sighs, or that it is the vocal sea 
sands drifting, or the lament of Indian ro- 
mance ? 

Like a mirage from the past, tradition brings 
to us visions of romance and adventure with 
every step that we take upon this enchanted 
shore. Even the flowers distill their fragrance 
with memories of the past, and the white 
Cherokee rose bends and blooms as sweetly 
now as it did in that night of long ago, when 
its soft radiance illuminated the pathway of the 
good Father Davion. Lost in the tangled 

III 



Romance and Realism 

depths of palmetto and swaying reeds, he 
vainly sought the pathway to Fort Louis. At 
last the light from a Cherokee encampment 
gleamed upon him, and there he found refuge. 
That night he prayed long and earnestly that 
he might be restored to his people. Sleep 
came and 

'' In a dream he saw once more his mother's tender eyes 
Bending above him in the Hght that fell from Paradise." 

Pointing to a snow-white flower, she told 
him that it would lead him to his home. In a 
pathway of light the roses descended from 
Heaven to earth, and above them he saw 
amone the stars, the Master's crown of thorns. 

Waking, he found, with joyous wonder, the 
flowers blooming around him, and extending 
far into the depths of the forest. Ever before 
him they sprang up to mark his pathway — 

'^ Follow," they seemed to whisper, "for we are leading 

thee 
Onward and ever onward to the old fort by the sea." 

Over white sand dunes they led him, and 
when swollen bayous were reached, they 
tangled their tiny tendrils into strong bridges 
upon which he crossed. On and on they led 
him until at Fort Louis he heard the joyous 
welcome of Sauvolle and his comrades. And in 

112 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

the forest we still find this Cherokee rose 
" with its snow-flake petals and heart of 
golden light." 

Sometimes on dark summer nights when 
moon and stars forget to shine, a soft light 
descends upon the waters illuminating sea and 
shore, and the mariner stills the uplifted oar 
and bows his head in reverential memory of 
woman's faith and woman's love. 

In the early days of the colony, when the 
little band struggled with disease and hard- 
ship, famine stalked into their midst, and, lift- 
ing its skinny hand, laid a deadly touch upon 
its victims. The grand monarch, hearing the 
voice of his children crying for bread, sent a 
ship across the stormy waters laden with all 
that could relieve their distress. 

The white sails were about to be unfurled 
when a beautiful woman, Eona, tearful and 
flushed, knelt at the feet of her king, and 
begged that her lover, only yesterday given to 
her in the bonds of wedlock, should not be 
sent to this far-away land of unknown trial and 
danger. 

''What!" said the king with reprovmg 
glance. " Do you forget his duty as a soldier, 
and would you unnerve the courage that 
should rescue the destitute and starving? " 

113 



Romance and Realism 




c 
<u 






of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

The roses faded from her cheeks as she 
fainted beneath the reahzation of her sorrow. 

With the memory of his kisses still upon 
her lips, she knelt before the altar in the 
darkened chapel. Day after day passed, but 
to her time and earth were forgotten, and her 
soul was uplifted in agonized prayer for the 
safety of her beloved. Her little hands 
clasped upon her breast, became as waxen in 
their pallor as the white draperies that wrapped 
her slender, graceful form, the frost of sorrow 
whitened her raven tresses, and the statue of 
the Virgin above the altar seemed no purer and 
motionless than the grief-stricken figure. But 
when life seemed to have been absorbed in 
the intensity of her entreaty, music not born 
of earth floated down upon her ; a heavenly 
peace descended upon her, and a voice of 
angelic sweetness whispered that there is a 
love of such holy birth that its radiance can 
forever light the path of its beloved. 

.The rescue-laden ship sped on over the vast 
stretch of waters until she entered the gulf, but 
when she had almost reached the land, the 
darkness of deepest night descended upon 
her. Fear came upon the hearts of the 
mariners, their cheeks paled, and with startled 
glance they looked out upon the waters for 

115 



Romance and Realism 

the dreaded wreckers. The vessel drifted, 
they knew not where, but suddenly the sea 
was illuminated with a soft light, and they saw 
before them the safety of Ship Island harbor. 

While joy reigned that the ship was safely 
landed, that bread was given to the starving, 
the soldier lover knew that the light of faith 
had guided them, that the prayer of Eona had 
enfolded them with heavenly protection. 

The day of wreckers has gone, and our land 
is one of smiling plenty, but Eona's light still 
comes to prove that love can be lifted above 
all earthly dross, and that it can live beyond 
the grave, limitless as time itself. 

The legends of the Cherokee rose and of 
Eona are taken from Mrs. Laura F. Hinsdale's 
charming little book of poems, Legends and 
Lyrics of the Gulf Coast. 

As a resident of the coast, Mrs. Hinsdale 
has taken the greatest interest in its beautiful 
romances. 

ii6 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 



CHAPTER VI. 

The IlHnois Central and Louisville and Nash- 
ville Railroads have largely assisted in de- 
veloping the sea coast. Especially the Louis- 
ville and Nashville road, as it runs parallel with 
the gulf, giving almost a constant view of its 
waters, and passing through the main sea 
coast towns. 

Soon after leaving New Orleans, on the 
Louisville and Nashville Railroad, Chef Men- 
teur is reached. Translated into English, the 
name means ''Lying Chief," and thereby 
hangs a tale. 

The Choctaws were especially averse to ly- 
ing, and when one of their chiefs yielded con- 
tinually to this habit, they banished him from 
the tribe, and he established his home at Chef 
Menteur. While the name commemorates 
the frailty of one Indian, it speaks in eloquent 
terms of the truthfulness of the entire tribe. 
The Choctaw of that day was not sufficiently 
civilized to acquire the habit of lying. 

Past is the day when the Indian lover lighted 
his torch, and with beating heart went to the 

117 



Romance and Realism. 

wigwam of his beloved, to learn his fate. Hap- 
piness was to be his if she met him and blew 
out the light ; but keen was his disappoint- 
ment if she refused to look at the light, and, 
turning her back upon him, veiled her face 
with her raven tresses. Past are these days of 
Indian romance, and passing away are all of 
the Indians. In the pathetic language ot the 
last chief of the Pottawattamies — in the twen- 
tieth century the Indians will be absorbed by 
the dominant race, and they will follow the 
buffalo into the land of memories and fables. 

In contrast with our own day, the following 
from the pen of M. W. Conelley embodies much 
interest of Indian life. 

" He loved nature, and was satisfied with 
it as he found it. He did not deface the 
earth. He did not alter the physical face 
of nature. He lived in comfort and at ease, 
and never subjected himself to high pres- 
sure as we do to-day. He did not consume 
the tribal or natural resources in building 
levees to control floods. When the waters 
were flung down upon the lowlands, he reared 
mounds to the summits of which he ascended, 
and remained safe until they abated. Where 
the forests grew he was content to leave 
them in primeval splendor. He burned the 

ii8 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

dry grass and small shrubs every year, making 
of the forest a grand park through which wild 
deer could be seen feeding, and over which 
the wild turkey roamed. This forest and the 
streams which flowed through it were his 
smokehouse and granary. When he desired 
food he went out and supplied his needs. He 
did not take fish from the water or inflict death 
on wild animals for 'sport,' as does the white 
man. He did not exterminate for the mere 
love of destroying life. In his forest temple 
he worshiped the Supreme Being, and his un- 
tutored mind saw God in clouds or heard him 
in the winds, and the dryads in their trees 
communed with him. Truly, he was a child 
of nature. In the red man's economy there 
were none of those perplexities that vex a 
higher civilization. There were no strikes or 
lockouts or boycotts. There were no walking 
delegates or plutocrats or paupers. There was 
no land or tariff question or tax question or 
labor question. High license and prohibition 
were unknown. There were no new women 
or social problems or sexual aberrations. No 
one was ever hunting a job, and the genius o\^ 
the tramp had not yet developed. The Indian 
was contented. He demanded and expected 
no more of life than he could easily obtain. 

119 



Romance and Realism 

He had no jails or reformatories, no saloons 
or other resorts of established reputation. 
There were no policemen or sheriffs, no courts 
or combines. The Indian is passing away and 
will soon be a memory, but the study of his life 
will be a valuable lesson to those who are being 
consumed by the fever of civilized conflict." 

Near Fort Rosalie, where the Natchez lighted 
their fires and sang their songs, modern his- 
toric romance has chronicled its stories. It 
was near here that Aaron Burr's flotilla 
sent a wild thrill of excitement through 
the country, and his domineering, impatient 
spirit chafed against the martial and civic re- 
strictions that encircled him. It was here that 
in the trellised walks and sheltered arbor of 
Half-way Hill he met beautiful Madeline. 
Under the influence of his fascinations and 
the finished polish of his manner, her heart 
quivered into new life and happiness. On the 
night of his wild flight, when his horse was 
stopped beneath her window, and he entreated 
her to go with him, her innate purity and a 
mother's protecting love alone saved her from 
inevitable misery. 

But he carried with him her sacred covenant 
and pledge, from which, however, he released 

I20 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

her when he wandered in foreign lands, an 
outcast, desolate and poverty-stricken. 

It was also in historic Natchez that Andrew 
Jackson wooed and won Mrs. Rachel Robards, 
nee Donaldson. He was married to her at 
the residence of Thomas Marston Green, in 
Jefferson county. The soldier who turned a 
ruorored front to Enorlish bullets and Indian ar- 
rows surrendered to the charms of this sweet 
woman. She was afterward a source of un- 
failing comfort in his domestic life, and infinite 
pride in the attractive grace with which she pre- 
sided over the high social duties of his position. 

The small compass of this book does not 
permit justice to all the romantic spots upon 
the coast — the wishing-well of Scranton, the 
lovers' oak at Pascagoula, the oak that has 
listened to tender words told in the Indian di- 
alect, in impassioned French, in soft Spanish, 
or in English. Love enters into all languages, 
and yet it has been truly said that it has a lan- 
guage of its own whose eloquence needs no 
words for expression. Love and life are insep- 
arable, for love has lighted the world ever since 
the example of that first affair in the Garden 
of Eden. 

Romance and history have woven their 
charms for each place on this balmy shore. 



121 



Romance and Realism 

where one " could never find the skeleton 
nakedness of leafless forests, the fair earth 
resting under a funereal winding sheet of snow, 
and the babbling rills and laughing brooks 
hushed into frozen silence." 

The names of many places link together past 
and present associations. Heron Bay commem- 
orates the number of herons found there. Man- 
chac means strait or pass, and connects Missis- 
sippi River with Lake Maurepas. The name 
Chandelier Island was given because discovered 
on the day when the Catholic Church celebrated 
the feast of the presentation of Christ in the 
temple and the purification of the Virgin Mary. 
It is flat, sandy and unprepossessing, but noted 
for its wonderful bird eggs. The name Pass 
Christian tells the story of the Norwegian 
sailor who first discovered the deep channel 
that is near this point, or perhaps it may com- 
memorate the time when the early priests 
taught the Indians the first principles of Chris- 
tianity. Bay St. Louis was so named by Bien- 
ville because the French arrived there on the 
day of St. Louis, son of the beautiful and vir- 
tuous Blanche of Castile. Pass Christian and 
Bay St. Louis are two of the most attractive 
places on the coast, and especially popular 
with the people of New Orleans. 

122 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

Bois d'Ore means '' gilded woods," for there 
the trees were found resplendent with color. 
Even the '' cow counties " on the coast, Har- 
rison and Hancock, have an association more 
poetic than the bovines that now roam their 
fields, for the name originally meant the home 
of the buffalo— Terre aux Boeufs, or " Land of 

Beeves." 

If time permitted, it would be a delight to 
linger at each of these seaside towns, that ex- 
tend almost continuously on the coast, in 
Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida. 
The stay, however, in this land of beautiful 
dreams and realities must end. 

As the object of this litde volume has sim- 
ply been the collection of charming romances 
and incidents of the sea-coast, no effort has 
been made to mention special places, enter- 
prises, and people. Biloxi is mentioned as a 
typical town, not that, with all its charms, it 
has greater attractions than some other places, 
but it can claim the distinction of having been 
the first permanent setdement, and, therefore, 
to it is given the special attention and defer- 
ence that is due to old age. 

The name Biloxi means *' broken jar," and 
it was here that Sauvelle, Tonti, and many of 
the early heroes found a last resting-place in 



12 



Romance and Realism 

Fort Maiirepas. Many of the homes retain 
the picturesque architecture of the old colonial 
period. The progress of the present combines 
with the quaint attractions of the past. 

One evening, a friend and I planned a visit 
to Aunt Eliza, one of the old inhabitants of 
the place. She opened the door of her neat 
cabin. 

"Aunt Eliza," said I, ** we are strangers 
visiting Biloxi, and came to make you a little 
call." 

Immediately her black face lighted with 
cordial hospitality, and she bustled around to 
get chairs for us, dusting each carefully with 
her apron. 

" Won' you res' yer hats?" said she. 

'* No ; we just want you to tell us some- 
thing of Biloxi, and what it was years ago, 
How long have you lived here ?" 

*' Ever sence I waz jes that high," said she, 
holding her hand a little above the floor. 
"An' I cum from Ole Virginny, an' my fambly 
was the Stevens fambly, on Jeems river, one 
uv the fust in the land ;" and she bristled with 
pride. 

It was not lono^ before she begfan to talk of 
religion, for nearly all old darkies are religious 
to a morbid degree, but we gently pulled her 

124 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

wandering remarks back to what was most 
interesting to us, the past. Soon in speaking of 
the dizzy gayety of her youth, her reHgion 
ebbed slowly into the background. 

''Dans! I could cut de pigon wing and out 
dans de debbil," and she chuckled to herself. 
" Onct, when Miss Anne hed company, she 
cum out ter de cabin wid oneuv young mistiss 
ole party does, an sez, ' Liza put thes on yer 
and thes long gluvs an this mas, an cum inter 
the settin room an dans ter-night,' an they clap 
ther hans, an Miss Anne laffed an laffed sorter 
sof to hersef, kase me an her wuz the onliest 
ones wat knowed it was little black Liza dan- 
sin," and the good old soul beamed with de- 
light over this retrospect of the fascinating 
wickedness of her young days. 

Ah! those happy times when the sym- 
pathetic bond between mistress and maid 
radiated happiness on many scenes that are 
now fading into the dim distance of the past. 

In the course of the conversation. Aunt 
Eliza confided to us that one of the dreads of 
her life had been that she would have some 
trouble with a blue gum nigger who might 
bite her. " Fur," she said, " I'd rather be bit 
by a rattlesnake than a blue gum nigger." This 

^25 



Romance and Realism 

is a common superstition with nearly all ne- 
groes. 

As the Indian estimated time by a bundle of 
sticks, so the negro often estimates it by some 
tender, sweet association, for instance — 

" How old is your boy. Aunt Dinah ? " 

''Who, dat Rastus ? He'll be nigh onto 
sebenteen nex watermillion time." 

It is characteristic for them to use big words 
and always to assume an air of importance in 
a court-room. 

Judge — '' What about this case — have you 
a lawyer to defend you ? " 

''No, sah." 

"What are you going to do about it? How 
will you get along without one? " 

" Well, Jedge, I went out and insulted one, 
an he tole nie jes to cum in an thro myself on de 
ignoance uv de cote." 

Among the quaint characters of Biloxi is 

George Ohr, the potter. He says that he is 

full of philosophy, and can argue human 

nature with you all day. His mustache is two 

feet long from tip to tip, and he wears it drawn 

behind his ears. Georcre is never tired of im- 

<_> 

pressing his visitors with the fact that the 
fools are not all dead yet, nor all born yet. 
In the rectory yard of Biloxi, a giant live 

126 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 



n 

5' 



ft) 
O 




Romance and Realism 

oak stands in the majestic beauty of its old 
age. In the long ago, its young branches 
twined a circlet that blessed two happy hearts ; 
a circlet that is still distinctly visible, and tells 
to each passer-by its strange, sweet story of 
Indian romance. 

A Biloxi chief discovered that his daughter 
loved the son of another chief — his bitterest 
enemy. When the young people pleaded 
their love, he turned from them with flashing 
eyes, and pointing wrathfully to the young 
oak above, exclaimed : 

"No! The young fawn can never be the 
light of your wigwam until a ring grows in the 
branches of yonder oak." 

And then — O, wonder of wonders ! — during 
the succeeding night, a terrific storm twisted 
the young branch into a distinct ring, that 
grew as firm as the tree itself. The terrified 
old chief felt that nature commanded a blessing 
that he dared not refuse. For what could 
have w^orked such a marvel but the touch of 
the dreaded Thunder Being ? 

'' In Sunny Mississippi," Julian Ralph tells 
us of the sensuous, dreamy, delicious, soothing 
nature of the sea-coast fever, and that no one 
who has it would be cured of it on any ac- 
count ; that a patient with it will be observed 

128 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

to talk rationally and to sustain ordinary light 
conversation, but will on no account move 
from a chair, unless it is to drop into the next 
vacant seat. He tells of the northern editor 
to whom was handed a New Orleans paper 
containing the account of the burning of his 
business house • but the editor pushed it away, 
saying : 

" Let her burn. I am here for rest, and 
don't want business mixed up with it." 

In the early days of the colony, domestic 
ties and happiness were left in the homes be- 
yond the sea, and the prattle of little children 
was unknown in the rude cabin of the pioneer. 
In the love of beautiful Indian girls, there was 
the fascination of unlicensed freedom and a 
demoralization of the finer instincts. When 
refined, cultivated women and civilization came, 
as they always do, hand in hand, many of the 
bronzed, rugged men welcomed them eagerly, 
but with others an effort was required to wake 
them from the moral torpor into which they 
had fallen. 

Premiums were offered to the men who 
would marry, and premiums were given for 
children. In the French and Canadian colo- 
nies, men were offered a year's pay and their 
discharge from the army if they would marry. 

129 



Romance and Realism 

But now the coast resounds with the voices of 
happy children ; their white, dimpled fingers 
smooth away the cares of maturer years, and 
the soft, bracing air cures all childish ailments. 
It is the children's paradise of birds and flow- 
ers and dancing waters. The small army of 
invaders march into the sea and embrace it, 
for they love it. 

There is a saying that the sea has no 
friends, and that its salt waters are made of 
women's tears. They tell us that when its 
charms tempt the mariners far out upon its 
surface, its treacherous smiles are often 
changed to tempests, and they are drawn 
beneath the raging waters, or the Lorelei 
charms them upon the rocks of destruction. 

They tell us, too, of an island, fair and 
beautiful, that stood out in the sea, a seeming 
haven of rest for the weary man of business, 
or a flower-strewn pathway for the child of 
fashion and frivolity. There a Lethean for- 
getfulness of care and the distant, noisy world 
wrapt them in delightful content, and little 
recked they when, as the evening shadows 
fell, a cloud no larger than a man's hand ap- 
peared in the distant blue sky. And when the 
gentle evening breeze stiffened into a gale, 
and the waves broke with a dull boom upon 

130 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

the shore, it was to the revelers only the ex- 
hilaration of a beautiful danger far removed. 
The ball-room's mingled sounds vied with the 
tempest's noise without ; — the sounds of 
mingled music and laughter, the gentle mur- 
mur of friendship, or the impetuous words 
that woke with the dawn of love. But the 
sea, envious of this joyous scene, dashed its 
strong waves against the building, and shook 
it with fearful power. The cruel waters 
suddenly crept over the ball-room floor, 
over the satin slippers and dancing feet ; 
trembling words were stayed upon pallid lips ; 
the wild instinct of flight was met with a 
fiercer invasion of the waters, and the sway- 
ing, fainting figures were engulfed in seething 
waves. 

The morning dawned upon a sea that was 
calm and beautiful, but it held within its 
sepulchral depths over a hundred lifeless forms 
that only a few hours before had been instinct 
with happiness and hope. A Lost Island had 
sunk far beneath its depths, and ever after- 
ward was only a memory of tragic horror. 
/ The sea, however, is always beautiful — 
beautiful beyond description when the sublime 
tempest seems to mingle sea and sky in a 
scene of tumultuous ruin, and beautiful beyond 

131 



Romance and Realism 

words, when in the enchanting calm of a sum- 
mer morning, it breaks upon the shining sands 
of the shore ''with a lace-Hke frill of foamy 
ripples and wavelets." 

Not alone do the voices of children and 
beautiful homes contrast the past with the 
present, but commerce and trade are opening 
every avenue of business and speak of the 
progress of the Nineteenth Century. 

The time has passed when the Indian 
roamed these shores with passive possession, 
and thought that a gunshot was a brave, but 
a letter was a fraud. The white man's speak- 
ing bark speeds from the morning's press to 
every point of the compass. The realized 
prophecy that thought shall fly around the 
world in the twinkling of an eye is not more 
wonderful than the progress of steam, and the 
electric illumination that reveals to us the 
hidden secrets of science. Man, the inventor 
and discoverer, pauses with astonishment at 
the wonders of his creation, and often some 
modern convenience of every-day life starts a 
train of thought, boundless in its possibilities. 
Back in the thirties many of these things 
would only have been considered wild flights 
of imagination, for as late as 1839, there were 
no telegraphs nor railroads in Mississippi. 

132 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

In the early settlement of the sea-coast, the 
vision of expectancy went no further than 
buffalo wool and pearl fisheries, and gems that 
would rival those of Peru and Mexico. The 
colonists starved in the midst of unknown 
riches. Crozat lost millions there, the India 
Company lost over twenty millions and the 
king over fifty millions. 

But now the country blooms like a garden. 
The Alsatians and Germans, the first gardeners! 
who were tempted here by John Laws' brillianti 
bubble, little dreamed of the vast possibilitv 
of the trade which they commenced. Vege- 
tables of every variety are raised ; also figs, 
pears, peaches, plums, pomegranates, pecan 
nuts, persimmons, oranges, etc. The Concord, 
Scuppernong Delaware and Ives Seedling give 
to the coast magnificent vineyards, and the 
industries of wine making, agriculture, and 
dairying flourish ; sheep and hogs also thrive. 

Immense quantities of the rarest and richest 
fruits and vegetables are shipped from the 
coast. The breath of the tropics is wafted to 
the frozen North to tell them that summer lives 
to come to them again, and that it always 
gladdens this beautiful sea-shore of the sunny 
South. Mississippi's forest territory is more 
than twenty-one millions of acres. The rapid 

133 



Romance and Realism 

development of the state can be partially ap- 
preciated from the fact that in 1880 capital in- 
vested in manufacturing was $257,244,000, and 
in 1894 it was $800,000,000; the value of 
manufactured products in 1880 was $457,454,- 
']^^, and in 1894 it was $1,000,000,000. 

On the sea-coast, vessels from all parts of 
the earth wait to be laden with lumber from 
the great southern pine belt — Moss Point 
alone having a sawmill worth a quarter of mil- 
lion dollars. King Cotton's fleecy staple is 
shipped ; all the products of agriculture and 
manufacture, and the great product of Louisi- 
ana, the vast Sugar Bowl of America. And 
the world is happier that there is such a South- 
land to send forth her treasures. 

All along the sea-shore stand the immense 
live oaks, like giant sentinels bringing past and 
present together, and from their branches 
swings the beautiful Spanish moss. 

"As by some fairy fingers spun 

It trembles to the wind's soft sigh. 
It sways to kisses of the sun 

As cloud-wreaths mingle in the sky. 
The wild bird gathers for her brood 

The floss to line her sylvan nest. 
It screens her tender solitude 

And softly veils her bed of rest." 

134 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

It was on the southern sea-shore that the 
genius of Audubon, the great Louisiana natu- 
raHst, first awoke. The brilHant plumage of 
Louisiana birds won his boyish admiration, 
and afterward became themes of scientific 
study that made his name world-wide. 

Here are found all varieties of birds that 
are a source of delight to the man of science, 
or to the reckless sportsman. Nor does the 
destructive touch of the latter spare the snipe, 
so sacred to the Biloxian, because that bird 
was the sister of the Thunder Being. ^^.^^^ 

Along the coast are vast canneries, that ship ^ 
vegetables, fruit and fish, and the diamond- 
back terrapin farms equal the famous ones of 
Maryland. There are woolen and cotton fac- 
tories, and the rod and reel are a source of 
pleasure and profit. Here are found black 
bass, pompano, sheepshead, redfish, and too 
many others to mention. Their marvelous 
and resplendent coloring lifts the heart invol- 
untarily to the Creator of this beautiful world. 
To us are given the treasures of earth, sea 
and sky. 

Yellow fever, a visitor so much dreaded in 
the past, is gradually but surely being con- 
quered by improved and scientific knowledge 
of the disease. For eighteen years it did not 

135 



Romance and Realism 

lift its saffron head, but when in 1897 its waves 
of terror swept over the South, the disease, by. 
contrast with the past, proved to be a terror in 
name only. 

On the sea-coast the fainting heart of the 
invalid is revived, his pale cheeks are bronzed 
by aquatic sports, and the blood flows stronger 
through his weakened body. He sleeps while 
the mocking-bird fills the night air with trills 
of purest melody, and, dreaming of heavenly 
rest, he forgets the pain and weariness of living. 

The wide halls sweep from end to end 
of airy houses, and the verandas encircling 
shadows tempt one to constant enjoyment of 
fresh- air treatment. 

When frost lays its lace-like net-work on 
the windows of northern homes, here they 
are opened wide for the warm, sweet air 
that is perfumed by the jasmine, the magnolia 
and the orange flowers, and roses climbing to 
the tops of trellises mingle their rainbow hues 
o( beauty. With it all, like a refrain of 
soft, rippling music, there is that strange, in- 
explicable, but restful influence of the sea : 

"Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me 
As I gaze upon the sea ! 
All the old romantic legends, 

All my dreams, come back to me. 

136 



of the Southern Gulf Coast. 

Sails of silk, and ropes of sandal, 
Such as gleam in ancient lore; 

And the singing of the sailors, 
And the answer from the shore ! 

Till my soul is full of longing 

For the secret of the sea. 
And the heart of the great ocean 

Sends a thrilling pulse through me." 

137 



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